Boomerang
Is this my boomerang,
finally returning?
Is this the Wheel of Fortune,
spinning me back to where I was,
flipped on the head,
seeing the other side?
Is this something rotten planted years past
that now blooms
after I cleared the clutter
and freed my own yard from weeds?
When the ice rattles,
when the words slur,
when the monster I thought I already killed
returns,
I can’t help but think:
This is my punishment.
Because now it’s my turn.
My boomerang is back to teach me
my own sins
and its kiss is
not gentle.
– © 2021, Saratoga Schaefer
Saratoga Schaefer 