Wedge

© Matthew Word Bain

while the river
flows on by
here I am
wedged in
an incisive grip

a smooth round stone
between pincers of bedrock
like some washed up rock star
life goes on without me

and yet
what is wrong
with being stuck
aside from expectation
and desire to move

does equanimity
(or resignation)
shift anything

or allow for
change
to begin
and grow
until the one
becomes the other
the lead turned into gold