His fractured kaleidoscope
of a childhood obsessed him
with symmetry. He’s transfixed
with how it glistens
in snowflakes, sparkles
in diamonds, graces
the wings of butterflies
he pins to savor
up close. He forces
snips for his girlfriend’s
lazy eye, insists his wife
arrange the furniture
just so, and requires symmetry
during sex. He balances
his desire with an equal
measure of deceit.
When he overhears
his wife’s phone whisperings,
she laughs
How do you like your fucking symmetry now?
For the first time he knows how it tastes.
(end)
Saragun Springs 
thought provoking and smacks nicely of comeuppance. dd
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Thank you, Diane
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David
People who seek to control usually wind up like this fool.
Your poetry is amazing. In fact everyone who reveals their poems has been brilliant on the site!
Leila
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Thanks, Leila. As always, I appreciate your support and kind words.
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The games people play. His game is not the only game in town. I liked the way you painted his character–a sort of hollowness inside him. Great images too!
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Hi CJA
Great comment on David’s work.
I took that picture at the 9-11 Memorial down the street from where I live. Two pieces of one of the towers. Tremendous looking and quite sad–twenty-five years this September.
Leila
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Hi Leila
Thanks!
Wow, I had no idea those were part of the towers. They are quite striking and in the context–they take on so much emotion and meaning. Great pic!
CJA
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Another excellent banner image selection!
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Thanks for your observation and for commenting!
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Thanks for taking the time to comment!
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David
Robert Frost said that we can understand the best poetry but it also has something elusive about it we cannot quite grasp. This is the element of poetry that makes us return to it for future and deeper readings. Your poem for today passes this test of Robert Frost with flying colors! The voice and images are smooth and beautiful, yet the reader also intuits the elusiveness. Since lyric poetry is about the deepest parts of being human, this is (and far from it) not easy to do. Bravo for succeeding so admirably! Your poems enliven the pages of the Springs with humanity, humor and mystery.
Dale
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Thank you for your kind comment, Dale.
(Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening is one of my favorite poems. Anything about Robert Frost is of great interest.)
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A sort of reverse paean to the control freaks among us. Your poetry is even better than you prose, David, and that’s saying something. Not a wasted word or thought.
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Thanks, Bill, for the very nice comment!
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