The Body, Again

Stephen Kuusisto, Letters to Borges


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.


Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

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