in face of the unfaceable
the wise man would turn
away

take what he can, in what
he can, and leave the fight
for another day

the wise man isn’t losing,
nor giving up, or giving in

the wise man is winning
for with his life he escapes

the naïve boy would ask

wise man what should I
do?

this man/this girl/this job/
this poem/this something
or another is causing me
trouble

the wise man would answer

can you fix it yourself, or
through the power of others?

the naïve would shake his head
no

but what can I do? he would punctuate

the wise man would smile,
putting hand on shoulder
in chide

and whisper in the naïve boy’s ear
why I’d leave it,
what good is a
fight?