Poem – Searching

Can we think of two lines as two lines;
as the moon drops its umbilical cord
toward our ever moving position of
humanity; searching, eroding, etching
itself while the music plays on, as we
all dance with strings pulling at our
shoulders. We shrug a little, then rip
and tear at the mental notion of being
clipped; our wings long ago vanquished
for another version of life.

-M. Taggart