dial it back – The Poetry Marathon

dial it back

The dial rests in my hands –

all of time rests in my hands,

all

need

to do is

turn it

forward

back.

All of time rests in my hands.

Mine alone.

Only my time alters in this strange new world.

I have to choose where I go –

when I go –

forward

or back

but once.

Only one turn,

one use only.

All else in my world would be altered.

No going back.

Would I turn the dial to 17 or 18?

Would I try that world –

that life –

would I meet you at that age?

Just to see what that would be like?

Those years were bitter and cruel for me.

Would it be worth it?

Losing all I hold dear?

Would it be worth it?

Or would I spin forward

just enough that it wouldn’t matter to anyone but us,

leaving us to ourselves,

our life,

our lives?

I hold the dial in my hand,

truly bound at a crossroads so heavy

as to buckle me under the weight of its possibilities.

I crush it to powder

with the weight of possibility,

choosing not to make a choice as the safest way out.

It was the first time I had ever taken that path.

R. L. Elke