On Radar, Or the Lack of It

Shall I go blindly to you, down dark roads
That drop from sight, again, again, and though
They never cease to rise once more, the folds
Will not reveal if this is stop or go.
Invent for me a way to see what lies ahead,
And I’ll not ask how dolphins swim to sound
And little bats use ears not eyes to tread
The night and never see the meal they found.
How so did I, who would not meet your face,
Become the one who caution-less will say:
Was it the laughter or that brief embrace,
Wry waves of sound that meet and bounce away?

Will you, won’t you call and will I wait--
It is (I warn you), not my natural state.

 

music -- Sleepless In Idaho or Don't Ask Why Dolphins Swim to Sound

by @Igor_a

 

Once Bitten -- a sonnet