Read Poem: EPIC, by Pat Connors

My feet

Set squarely in

The present

My eyes

Firmly focused on

The future

The narrow way

Seems dangerous and hard

Wrought with strife

And lonely

But, when not absorbed in

Seeming circumstances

Or caught up in

wavering from

Side

to

side

It merely becomes

The surest, shortest distance

Between two points

The past has passed

The present

Is

But a fleeting gift

I will hold out for

The future

And trust in

What it brings