Evelyn Klebert

I cast a net into the ocean,
sure of what I’ll catch,
but time and fate and winds of change
bring back the unforeseen.
I mark a page in my journal,
confident of what my life will bring,
but twists and turns and stumbles unknown
lead down an unexpected road.
I see myself in a passing glimpse,
in a mirror that has hung
forever it seems in the same place.
And I say to my image “Who will you be
when I look again tomorrow?”
Quite sure and quite confident
that I have no idea.

I prepare for attack,
arm myself for my nemesis,
readied for a long prepared-for battle,
guarded to the hilt
to extremes.
Readied for the person who bears the brunt of my grievances,
who carries the burden, the responsibility for my ills.
Readied for attack,
But then
you’re here,
not as I’ve imagined,
not as I’ve armed against,
but beaten down and humbled by life,
eyes tired,
lined face,
sad from the heaviness of all the burdens
yours and mine.
But where did my nemesis go?
The one I have prepared for,
and armed against?
For my creation has dissipated as quickly,
as a reflection in shallow water,
rippling apart with a gentle breeze.