i’ve encountered many potholes in my life. some were clearly marked

others not so much

>

regardless of the markings and warnings, i have learned something from each pothole visited.

apparently i am not the only one who has potholes for teachers . . .

I.

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hold in the sidewalk.

I fall in.

I am lost . . . I am helpless.

It isn’t my fault.

It takes forever to find a way out.

II.

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend I don’t see it.

I fall in, again.

I can’t believe I am in this same place.

But it isn’t my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.

III.

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hold in the sidewalk.

I see it there.

I still fall in . . . it’s a habit . . . but,

My eyes are open.

I know where I am.

It is my fault.

I get out immediately.

IV.

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.

V.

I walk down another street.

(Portia, Nelson. There’s A Hole in my Sidewalk. NY, Popular Library, 1977)

(today’s little installment is part of this, already in progress)