saturn return

Not much of a bungee-jumper,
I no longer fly free-form 
but play a black orbit,

take a rain check on heights,
find myself a patron 
in the daily grind
of coffee and the news.

Till one day, my muse 
taps me on the shoulder,
says in a dyslexic whisper,

"Hey self, wake up!
It's dark and light together;
it's still morning, in the whole 
scheme of things."

Now, suddenly, I'm a chess piece 
that can go around corners,
a king who breaks free 
of the one-step-at-a-time routine.

I find the game book on the shelf,
reread the facts of life,
then tell myself 
I'm not afraid of falling.

Tess Kincaid

October, 2011

Listen to R.A.D. Stainforth's delightful reading of this poem:

(You can visit his blog Black Dogs here.)

image: Michael Sowa

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