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The Ant and A Morning

by | Nov 24, 2015 | Poetry | 0 comments

A long day
ahead of me
I should just wait and see
if I make tomorrow—
that long trail behind me
of black and white
must have been carved
by nail and blood; that I may not know
but I see
it is not meant to end
right here,
under my feet.

Some made one whole foot,
some went far and beyond
a land I cannot see
as long as I’m standing with only me,
and a thousand wailers waiting
to trap my steps and mend
my madness and curiosity.

A whole big drop,
I have just missed,
was about to crush my head;
a whole drop of blood
I left along the way
to mark a trail that
does not belong to only me,
anymore—
another drop,
ten drops…
too much…
it is raining—
I may continue as a martyr
or wait a little until it stops,
and later continue the trail
as long as there is still left
until my very last breath—
short and violent as a storm
or long and leading as a star;
if I make a purpose for those
I can do either.

October 28, 2015

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