Self-Portrait as Question
Walking hand-in-hand with what,
who presupposes why, and when
huddles with where before skittering
off to its murky corner. Sometimes
I present myself as a shy minute
or a cloud’s effigy streaming across
a scruffy field. Few suspect the truth.
Answers ricochet from the limestone
wall, but no one nabs them. I react
quickly and offer the unknown, the
life I claim, my name, in return.
* * *
“Self-Portrait as Question” was first published in Rue Scribe in September 2018. Many thanks to Eric Luthi and the editors at Rue Scribe for accepting this piece and several others.
O at the Edges 
I really identify with this, Bob – why so many questions? Do answers even matter? Who is asking? Is it me?
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And answers beget more questions…
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Do answers really matter? I’ve got a never ending supply of questions.
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In my world, questions and answers are often one and the same.
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I think I ask the same question so many ways so many times I become defined by the question
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You are the question…and the answer.
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Nice! ❣️
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Thank you, Cindy.
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