Ever the Newborn Foal. {poetry}
“You know you have bear in you too,”
he said.
“And otter
and wolf
and eagle and fox.”
But I didn’t hear him.
I shifted one more time
feet stumbling
ever the newborn foal that I was.
I’d shiver at the sun
and twitch from action
and cloak myself in a shadow
or the night
or someone else’s luminescent light
just to get out of the way of it all.
When my voice came out, it was a rasp —
wind creaking through battered trees,
and if I left footprints
anywhere
you were soon to find me quickly
sweeping them up
preserving the ground the way it was
before I came along.
He said it again.
Later in life.
Then later again:
“You know you have bear in you too,
And otter
and wolf
and eagle and fox.”
Luckily little foal had chance to grow.
My life wasn’t over yet.
Yes.
I had bear in me too.
And otter.
And wolf.
And eagle and fox.
And me, among many other things.
***
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