The Misstep of Missus “Nevermind the missteps or the misses” -- Virginia Woolf
I knew what she meant, but I can't help but think “Missus”: the misstep of the Missus. I think of
stumbling across a fig tree with deliberate split branches.
The misstep of Missus -- the split crooks right. Took the right path, the safe and easy path into
the sun. It is abundant with hearty fruit.
But the left side is what intrigues me: the misstep away from Missus. It is the shadowy side
with withered flowers, north facing, cold facing. It didn’t have a choice as to what direction it went, or did it? Maybe it didn’t want to be pollinated and just grew wildly in the
dark? This misstep might have been a deliberate turn from Missus.
So I sit at the V of the crook with a simple fig in my hand longing for a misstep in the right direction.
Allison Bohn (she/her) is an Academic Writing Professor in the greater Detroit area with a Master's degree in English. She has published several poems as well as scholarship including a piece that examines "Leaves of Grass" and "Supermarket in California" in honor of Whitman's bicentennial. Her work can also be found on her Instagram account.