The Lure

Habituation eased into town long ago

Thought to be natural

It was

Praised as stability

It was

Embraced as destiny

It was

Procreation ruled the nights

Delivery rooms the days

Time passed and like flies to a sugar fix

Habituation swarmed bank tellers on payday

Local bars on Friday night

Churches on Sunday

Workweek habits continued

Harassment ‘round the water cooler

Ass kissing ‘round the bosses

Entitlement ‘round the calling-in-sick phone

Then something happened

Times got rough

Unemployment rose

Businesses shut down

Preachers sought donations elsewhere

Habituation stumbled out of town

Dark became the memories of enticements

Cob webs hung furtively

Tying unlit lamp post to shattered neon signs

Side streets to alleyways

Locked doors to broken windows

Summer storms passed over

Leaving muddy puddles

Their rippled reflections

But gurgling echoes to the moon

Goodbye waves of regret

Today

Not far down the road

A new infestation of impassioned hunters

Polish their duplicitous wings

Awaiting yet another bounty of ignorance

To buy into the inducement

Of both flight

And fright

Believing this

Believing that

Unaware that allurement

Is a barb of many disguises

Just as

On a clear night

Or a dew-covered sunrise

Wings of abalone color

Will flicker from the webs of

Habituation's seductive lure

Turning tomorrows entrapment of dreams

Like the captive wings of flies

Into fractured rainbows dangling