again Ariadne

Theseus

    from the bow

        saw her reflection in the river

                 

I could disassemble myself he said 

            replacing

       throughout the years

every particle of the original 
convincing myself

I’ve not become different 
              the whole while

              a ghost of a voice 

whispers about distinctions

                 small

                 and

                 vast and
still I would only be able 

             measure the distance

             between us in nights
   their numbers alone

setting me to contemplate

vaulting the rail 

       making for 

       any shore

       that will have me
(c) 2017 Fred Whitehead