What is the fulcrum of your life?
Do you keep it in that drawer of odds and ends
Near the sink? Or the basket of mismatched wool and thread
That sits neglected under the bed?
Does that old key still have a matching lock?
What about the oddments sitting quiescent
In the basement, gathering dust?
Are any of these the key to your dreams?
The one lever that would make you turn
And view your life from a new angle,
Or lift the carpet that hides the stain on the floor?
What is that different fulcrum,
That would turn your face to look up at the stars
Or down at the flowers around your feet?

Yvonne Aburrow
9:34 pm, 18 April 2022

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Inspired by the phrase “that different fulcrum” in Making Peace by DENISE LEVERTOV

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