Blurred Lines Poem by Greg Costello

A pleasant, softly-spoken, giant of a man,
I knew him to talk to, but not as a friend,
And I would always walk away feeling unbalanced,
By his hidden, blatant lack of balance.

He spent his working life making it easier for others to see out;
Behind his own retinal panes an interminable mist;
His heart a cardiac chamois,
That could not be wrung of a lifetime's hurt.

And so he climbed the ladder one last time.
People remarked. "You just never know".
What if you always knew and were too late to act,
Because you were waiting to be told?