like tumbleweed
you follow me
blindly through the maze
electronic headlamp
casting brilliant lumens
— a projected triangular light
exposing uncertainty
high above the canopy
alien voices sing
in their native tongues
creating a singular hum
like the cicada
or the mantra
of the seven tribes
there is no end or escape
from the maze
— I reach back & you
firmly grip my hand
and with all my might
I pull & propel you forward
all in one motion
all for the sake of survival
april two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
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