Fate’s Niagara

Traveling

alone

indentured

down the river

of time

 

The current

building

and pushing

me

beyond myself

 

My oars

are traded

for one last

look

around the bend

 

The anchor

buried

in tidal sands

of lost

belief

 

My compass

melted

to pay the

toll

of fates arrival

 

With rudder

steady

 as blind

I rush

— into the falls

 

(Front & Erie Ave’s: August, 2025)

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