I had a spine
straight and true as a section line
from stiff neck to strong,
unbroken back.
I had hands
capable and constant;
chapped and work rough,
with red dirt crescent moons under my nails.
And, I could fail
when I had to.
I could fearlessly fail.
I had hands
capable and constant;
chapped and work rough,
with red dirt crescent moons under my nails.
And, I could fail
when I had to.
I could fearlessly fail.
10 comments:
Truth and beauty.
Sometimes the more we accrue the more we feel we have to lose..therefore we take less risks? I love the imagery of those bones and backbone..I think that is a constant..you either have one or not..and there are advantages to smooth hands
Fear of failure. Paralyzing if we allow it. Lovely poem.
And now that I have money, I am fearful of losing it and am having dreams that I can put it away in a corner and it would multiply on its own sitting there.
Intriguing and thought-provoking poem.
Money sucks, mostly, but I've yet to give it up to go live in a refrigerator box.
This poem, otoh, completely doesn't. The price of comfort, of security never sounded so high--and it slaps and stings in every line.
I love it when you write this way. I adore this poem. The details in it make it so alive.
Mama Zen--Every poem of yours is so different, but always well crafted and true in voice.
as always, on point, sharp, lucid, wise ~
There is some liberty in that!
When I could work, I never failed until I fell
Love what your wrote Mama Zen
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