Nothing nearby for me to lean on. Nowhere
to rest. A pebble underfoot has grown insistent,
a burdensome tooth. I've had to master
balance. These years, this life have made
of me a common ostrich.
I tuck up a leg, remove my shoe,
release the round stone, watch it bounce
away. I can't fly anymore, but I'm
made to run. I am faster than you
might allow for a creature standing still
like this. Years and
life—I've had to be.
[Michael Kleber-Diggs 'Adaptation', from Worldly Things]
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