Circles of Fate - flipside B - Barbara LM Handley

Circles of Fate

Once there was this man who was alone
who needed a friend
who didn't want to be afraid.
He already had too many fears.
He never told. So no one knew.
He thought about suicide;
Something changed his mind.
Something wanted to live.
So he went on living;
he lived by himself;
he lived with his fear;
which started small and grew larger and blacker as all fears do.

Once there was this man with a car and a job and an
apartment
An apartment which was neat and clean;
An apartment which had a cat and a lot of plants,
which had no life and no vitality,
which had a cat and a fish and a man who was afraid.

Once there was this many who was 32.
Who wanted a wife and a child and a home,
who had a cat and a fish and a lot of plants,

Who hated his life and his job and himself.
He never told. So no one knew.
Once, provoked by his hate and his loneliness and his
fear,
he hit the cat.
He hit it only once.
He might have hit it again, but it ran away
and hid.
So this fear, which had started small, grew larger and
blacker as all fears do.
And the cat ceased to love him,
and hid when he called,
and never, never sat in his lap
or purred under his hand.
It spent silent days with the fish and
waited in the quiet, neat apartment.
It knew the loneliness of the man and
the need for love.
It walked and sat alone as cats do.
And waited, as the lonely must.

Once there was this man who grew tired of life and
decided it was time. Past time.
Who decided to be alone no more.
Who had lived 34 years and had given up.
And the cat, who had been too much alone, ran away
to where cats run.
And the man found a new friend who took him
away, leaving
An apartment with a fish and a lot of plants,
Who had gill diseases and root rot.
Who waited long and died.

Once there was this man who had too much fear.
Who was tired of so much pain and
being alone,

Who had a choice to make and death to run to,
Death who had extra room and comfort,
Who had open arms and a warm heart.

Now there is this corpse which is cold and blue.

1983

Thoughts and Comments

With respect to Donna Ducarme. Modeled on her poem Lines of Descent.