Fitting

We are robbed 
of our paltry choice
 left
laying
on a frigid stone
with only
a withering
whatif
keeping watch


We wounded wait
wishing

as the world spins

for
the sworn
 season salve


______________________________________________________________

*You fit into me

like a hook into an eye

a fish hook

an open eye

OctPoWriMo 2019  Day 10

*Margaret Atwood