Cat’s cradle

I say I don’t believe in fate,
except I do. It threads
through every life I cross:

Each tangled thread a knot–a cross
I freely bear. One fate
composed of sundry threads.

I weave a tapestry of threads,
of knotted strings; I cross
my fingers, trust in fate.

If fate decides which threads to cut or cross, how glad I am she knotted mine to yours.


Yes, it’s another tritina. I can stop anytime. Really. I mean it.

5 thoughts on “Cat’s cradle

  1. Silverleaf says:

    Well let’s not find out, ok? I love reading these – it’s something about the rhythm and the unexpected twists in word meanings I think. Your use of “cross” is especially wonderful.


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