Recently,
as my infant son
wailed in my face
and would not be
consoled, I thought,
with mild annoyance,
he doesn’t even know
what he wants.
I paused,
then grinned sheepishly,
embarrassed that I had,
even in my thoughts,
pretended
to be self-possessed
of my own desires.
In truth,
I have often felt
like a traveler
with a broken compass,
wandering a world
where true north
is both fickle
and elusive.
