I watched them drink,
my mouth not
salivating –
a god-given gift –
and around me saw the
dances of life,
the different flavours
of temperaments,
myself, themselves,
all human beings
flickering together
for brief moments
before we expire.
To work in the fields,
to raise a child,
to leave a mark in
history;
who’s to say which
shape
a life will take,
which forms we assume
while we drift,
while we force our
wills
this way and that.
An aching muscle,
a swollen ankle,
a broken jaw;
we are as glass to the
rocks.
And yet we rise,
we show up,
we squeeze the nectar
from the fruit.
No comments:
Post a Comment