A Hasty Retreat

This piece was written about two years ago...the poet is dicey about the details, but I think it is a manifestation of his teenage angst, his innate shyness (yes, the boy is shy). That was a (ahem) while back, but such is life.

A Hasty Retreat

I did not think to mark the path
that brought me to your door.
so here I am,
suddenly aware
that my thoughts are undone
and my intentions are down
and I must flee.

if I could only decide
which way to go
to save face
before
you realize how unworthy
are my affections.

the laugh forms
just beneath the surface.
then bubbles up
to break the tension
before I have
even found
a reasonable escape route.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.