No Strings


 

She spent her life
building and feathering her nest
head down
consumed in the process

a woman committed
to the industry
of her task

so capable
so indendent
no time for distraction

wanting nothing
to interrupt
her single-minded endeavor

not needing
nor asking
for help
from anyone

she wanted
no sttings attached

finally one day
she rose up
to look around

to discover
she had achieved
every goal

every accomplishment
was indeed hers alone

but terribly alone
she had no one

she had it all
but at a cost

she was isolated
was entangled
in her cold
calculated
singular
success

she felt
nowhere
empty
lost

and
she
was
sad

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

 

14 thoughts on “No Strings”

  1. I was waiting for the spider metaphors…for the web to begin entangling others. The end seemed to be more of an untangling, a spider devoutly against webs except those that were perfectly her own.

  2. The I Ching says, as with all things, when a point of intolerance arrives, change comes. I believe this is true. Don’t feel sorry for the unraveling woman, she’s about to rev up a new cycle and get some new threads.

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