If I had known how to balance a thing
There should have been nothing to learn or bring
From place to higher place through streets
Desolate, abandoned black roads of grief
The bottom of a hill seemed oh, so fearsome
Enough to halt my aim toward home
It was as if my legs were drilled
Unaffected – stilled against thought or reason
Looking back I see all manner of kinds
Mines and bleak, ladders arising
I learned to ride a silly cycle
While men and kittens kept making things lighten
(October 2006)
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