Wind the Labyrinth

Begin with Ariadne’s ball of thread

You walk upon the bones of those
Who passed this way before
You roll the bones

You turn the game-show wheel of fortune

Each twisting path is all the same
You spin and spin and spin and spin
How often have you spun this way before?

Sweat stings and it’s so hot in here
A gadfly or a whip-cut?

Staccato dance
Surrounded yet alone

Shadow puppets
Who pulls your strings?

Wash the fleece and card the fleece
And draft the roving into strips
You spin and spin and spin and spin
How easily wool fiber snaps
How strong once spun to thread

Ariadne’s ball of thread
A ripe apple’s like in size
They tried to bury us
They didn’t know we’re seeds

A cross, four curves, four dots
Join each to each around and round
Two lines, one black, one red
The labyrinth winds back and forth
A spiral
A mirror at the center
Who are you?

Sponsored for publication by Elizabeth Barrette in barter for her poem “Until the Restoration