The Fine Print of Rescue

by Andrew Dufresne
Wild Poetry Forum
Third Place, August 2019
Judged by Lois P. Jones


I have a new way of putting
on my shirt so that the joy remains
intact.

The joy remains intact and yet the
dance of particulars
lead to a reverie invaded.

A reverie invaded
with the solitude of a child’s
lone ranger.

A child’s lone ranger replete with rescue,
deep loyalties to each other,
the truth of our lives.

The truth of our lives struggles with manners
of habit, the likes of which restrain
passion.

The likes of which restrain passion
as a force beyond
knowing.

A force beyond knowing
pitifully named
the voice of the unknown.

The voice of the unknown which
Truthfully weeps and says
I am sorry, which means something.

When sorry means something,
I’ll be sorry
now.


If an opening line like this doesn’t make your smile stand up and pay attention, nothing will. This poem reads like a renga for one, leading us down the philosophical trail which is less marked than worn through the poet’s cryptic experience and aphorisms. The final apology reverberates with its multiplicity of connotations when sorry means something to the eternally unknown. To the narrator? To its subject? To the forces of forgiveness? Intriguing and worthy of multiple readings. --Lois P. Jones

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