Resignation 2

PEAR takes a turn

Sometimes you reach a point, where talking to yourself
Is just as much a waste of time
As looking for a way to navigate the maze
Of contradictions at each intersecting turn.

You need, of course, to know what you know
When the next cul-de-sac tells you what
A pleasant drive it will host for the next thirty feet.
I mean, a dead end can dress like a willowy blonde,
Or it can shake your hand like a newly-made man.
Either way, the beautiful lady or the wisest of guys
Puts you knee-deep in muck and alone.

So the exit I made didn’t flutter the heart,
Nor did my ego make speeches of thanks.
In the moment, the rain overshadowed parades
That could play only fair in my head.
“Think of this as an opportunity,” the wiseguy said.
The willowy blonde purred something about the future,
And I handed the note to be entered into the minutes.

The drive away was neither dreadful nor smug.
From then on, I have told my pride to know its role;
To hold its head up high while I stoop to take my place.