There was one man, then two men, then three.
The worst part of me did a somersault on the balance beam.
The bumblebee audience cooked to 103 degrees.
One man bumped the next one off the beam, then the next
one did the same thing. I spent the day making sure I didn’t call
each one by the wrong name. When the married man talked about
his wife, I cringed. When my husband threatened to take
his own life, I cringed. When the man who was the innocent
bystander of all this didn’t say anything, the Russian judge
gave him points he didn’t deserve out of pure fidelity. Then they called
my name and I knelt before all three as the winner put the bronze
medal over my head. This book is a fable. It is an Old English riddle.
Want some? It is also a Koan: she who is wise puts
down bread crumbs, never plays dumb, gets home before sunrise.
