You never swim out into the same water
But I woke this morning, blind,
A flock of school children passing,
One child drawing a stick along the fence,
The music of people
Who have more than they can carry,
And I thought, I’m no longer
So fond of travel…
Not old but inside
I’m pushed now
Farther to a corner,
The birds of my flesh lifting
Coursing over my house.
