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1.

Distant love, half-continent,
fine-toothed possessions,
mostly thinned books sailing
a cardboard sea to desert.
The last wave by
from a bicycle parked
at a school, calling itself
FREE.

2.

Sometimes molasses, in comparison,
rages as waterfalls, imaginary
friend fading out of invisibility
until the formal proclamation
of not seeing everyone’s assumption.

That day, two unlikely Elders,
badges with plastic names
danced on my doorstep
for three-quarters,
being quizzed on their invisible friend.
Then, they disengaged
and left.

3.

Once, in a flash from a fifty-scarred
field of cornered blue,
I realized there were other friends
imagined, beneficial and judicial.
Vanquished from mind,
only flesh and bone of ideals
became my close circle
of lonely friends.

4.

Now, the universe opens to me,
new imaginings and impossible potentials,
a poem of freedom, walking in glory.
Happiness is to be mine.

Yet, should they come
with silhouetted gun
to remind me of chains,
to command obligation,
to magnify my burden,

the Titan will shrug,
shattering the silver goblet
of tears against the taming of fire.
All tears lost, save one,
one never dropped,
frozen at eye’s corner.
Waiting,
struggling,
trembling,

to let go.

(written for a prompt at DversePoets on the subject of letting go)