The Native Iowan

The past comes forward. The future becomes today. Today should never be tomorrow.

Reminds me of a song…

They sat together in the park

as the evening sky grew dark,

she looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones.

twas then he felt alone and wished that hed gone straight

And watched out for a simple twist of fate.

They walked along by the old canal

A little confused, I remember well

And stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burnin bright.

He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train

Moving with a simple twist of fate.

A saxophone someplace far off played

As she was walkin by the arcade.

As the light bust through a beat-up shade where he was wakin up,

She dropped a coin into the cup of a blind man at the gate

And forgot about a simple twist of fate.

He woke up, the room was bare

He didnt see her anywhere.

He told himself he didnt care, pushed the window open wide,

Felt an emptiness inside to which he just could not relate

Brought on by a simple twist of fate.

He hears the ticking of the clocks

And walks along with a parrot that talks,

Hunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailers all come in.

Maybe shell pick him out again, how long must he wait

Once more for a simple twist of fate.

People tell me its a sin

To know and feel too much within.

I still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring.

She was born in spring, but I was born too late

Blame it on a simple twist of fate.

The twists and turns of life. The twists and turns of fate.

Fatalism. Fatalism?

Is it fatalism? What else could it be?

Commentary? Cynicism? Realism?

The love of watching the braid-of-life unravel. Perhaps it has to do with age? I cannot be arrogant enough to think it’s wisdom.

Life is good, indeed.

The reemergence of familiars from the past. Long lost memories. Return. With a smile.

It’s all a good story.

Blame it on a simple twist of fate.