there are always a few fibers
that seem to have come unraveled–
from your own life, at least–
that trailed off on some other way,
ending up in other tapestries,
woven into other lives,
not yours
but then, one day,
you’re idly picking at a loose thread,
pulling until it comes away,
following it out along
its curving, tangled path
until it snags
and so, you tug,
and are surprised to find:
that loose and wandering string
is wrapped around
some long-lost strand of you
poem (c) 2015 D. Ohlandt
please only reprint in entirety and with credit given
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