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Chess J Michael Wahlgren Boston MA |
Chess Cornered within a room of checkered tiles, Eyes cast view upon similar exiles. “Cut to the chase” or “This is love,” I think. Strapped in a corner with friends, or foes. Linked By an end whose means are not the same. Different heights and different frames. Is love a game? Restrictions beyond control, rules set in stone At birth. All searching for a sense of home. Will I be captured if I cross my lines? Will the Queen cast a glance if we’re both aligned? Ponder your next move, but what is its worth? My corner of comfort, my place of birth. J Michael Wahlgren [Return to Psychopoetica home page] ©The contents of this page are copyright protected.
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