Wish it Well, I’d Say

What if Fate’s effeminate,
frail, rangy, quiet, shy?
What if it looks nervously,
unknowing, at the sky?

Perhaps it has a marionette
resembling itself
to play out little scripts it’s kept
all piled on a shelf –

attempts to sort out this and that,
to see what it might do
in cases of catastrophe
and other things to rue.

.