like fishing.

that moment
when
you're not moving
forward
or
backwards
is the moment you feel
sideways.
you imagine it's like
fishing.
standing on the banks
casting wide
lodging your hook
beneath
a glacier.
you pull
pry
try to reel
but the line is not strong enough
for your effort.
instead it just grows
taut.
and you grow
weary.
but you keep holding
the pole.
you stand -
clinched fist and
stunted
as the wind pulls
your hair into a mess
and the rain
starts to ruin
your shoes.
and when the night comes
when darkness hides
the trapping ice
you whisper
a prayer?
something.
to the sky, you tilt your face.
"look at my face."
you scream.
the night is long
and you are impatient.
as if everything you ever
wanted
was trapped just feet
in front of you.
as if the clouds were
growing thicker
denser
creating this barrier
between that ice
and the sun.