Stolen Thread Poem by Hans Ostrom

Ariadne ran out of thread. Now we're stuck.
Her simple woven line had belittled the labyrinth
for us, rendering it tedious at worst. That

was up until today. Or is it night? A frivolous,
costly puzzle can still prove deadly, we're
thinking. We're thinking of the leaders who

imprisoned us here. They're perfectly,
compulsively evil. Ariadne tried
to help us with her sensible approach.

We're staring to think someone stole
the thread, for Ariadne always
carries plenty. The dark walls are damp.


hans ostrom 2016