So you’re becoming someone
else you once had feared,
knowing fate, and its forgotten
future, again, as if a past
stranger, a self-akin.

But kin to what fractured
fear finds your present?
Father to the future
remains the past,
which can be set free

like a self from its similarities.

Alex Missall studied creative writing at the University of Cincinnati. His poetry collections A Harvest of Days and Morning Grift are forthcoming from Finishing Line Press (2026). He resides in Ohio, where he enjoys the trails with his Husky, Betts. You can find him on X @MissallAlex or at alexmissall.com.