Tangled

Two snowflakes land on my Shuffle as I pull it out of my pocket. I'm walking; the smooth grey concrete sidewalk stretches before me. The cords of the earbuds embrace my Shuffle, twisting and tying themselves in an impossible knot. I keep walking, looking first up where I'm headed, then always back down at the hopeless bundle resting in my hands. The way shifts slightly downhill at times. I follow it unconsciously as the sidewalk moves and curves. I am absorbed by the tangle in my fingers; I first try to shake it loose, then carefully unwind it. Looking always down has its hazards; I avoid a tree, then a person, just before impact. I keep walking. I look up for a while. But the Shuffle is asking to solved. I pick at the knot, trying to pull it apart. As I stare at the smooth, grey, metallic rectangle in my palms, I notice the sidewalk passing under my moving feet is the same grey. I continue to convince the cords to relax their grasp. They finally release and swing free, swaying back and forth as I walk. I catch them in mid-flight, put them securely in my ears, and walk with music filling my head.


(It's a stab at prose poetry. Hopefully not a fatal stab. )