Knowing

When to quit.

Photo by Leio McLaren on Unsplash

Picking up the duster
Wiping off the words
Washing down the blackboard
Feeling free as birds.

Cleaning up collateral
Making pieces fit
Tidying up the table
Knowing when to quit.

Making sense of myself
The expurgated version
Cutting to the quick
And uncovering aversion.

Knowing where I’m going
Treading on new ground
Throwing the superfluous out
Keeping what I’ve found.

Muddled by the mystery
I forgot who I was
Doing things my way
The reason is in another clause.

Distance is a dynamo
That has my heart pumping
Order the ignition
That has the senses jumping.

Now I can articulate
And use my own free will
Openness the energy
Circumstance the pill.

Expurgated explanations
The print left on the floor
The fresh breeze that’s blowing
Through my open door.

©

David Rudder
2024

Thank you for reading this piece and my poetry.