I’m in a new place these days.
A little sick still,
But mostly in love
With being useful.
Feeding my injured hen
Water from a syringe
I spend my entire day
Worrying over her
Delicate, feathered body
And feel alive.
What have I learned so far
Except for that the more time passes,
The more
I do
I play
I say
I think
I inch
Farther downstream
From the mountain of my youth.
The water has been churning
For a while now,
Dirty,
Sand sticking between my teeth
Gritty,
But I use the grains as tools
To sharpen my teeth
So that when trout swim past it means
Dinner.
I can’t believe most of us
Prefer to eat
On average
Three times a day
Every day of our lives
And that we don’t seem to tire of it.
Our mouths still water
Watching British cooking shows
And over the course of
Decades
Our bodies process
Several tons of food
Till we’re wrinkled
Hunched
Spider-veined
And bleary-eyed.
Is it not extraordinary?
Does it not
Give you faith
That you can last?
