Map

The spider web that twists and turns across my centre in every
direction never comes to
an end – in the present. It writes itself in
jolting lines that chase one
another; each attempting
to keep up with themselves.
This matrix of decisions
and junctures, of problems and
resolutions, at some point
must to come to end.
But I only hope that I
am not here to see it so.

© Sam Cunningham, November 2008