
I sense there’s too much elusive
– birds in hand and all that.
I drop the game from my mouth
at the water’s edge
because two is better
than one.
Then
I’ve none.
Behind the scenes of a fable
unable to attain
even one’s share.
Where did Aesop go
when the mammals slept
and the allegory hit the wall,
did he laugh or grumble?
© Chagall 2013
