Thread

From time to time,

when you have wandered

away from a person,

you wander a little further

and feel the slightest tug

at your ankle.

Looking down, you find

a thread, red or maybe

blue, barely seen,

barely there, tied

gently and trailing

as far back as you

can see and you know,

instinctively, where

it leads.

It brings you to a choice:

to take one more step,

snap the thread and

leave it where it lay,

or return from whence

you came.

Sometimes, the one’s

the best choice;

sometimes, it’s the other.

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