Rock’s Song
How can I hope to fly knowing
the viciousness of the sun,
its appetite for wings?
I can’t walk or run
like the well-heeled strangers
I meet. I can’t do anything
to escape this pit,
darker than the unlit mirror
of space. So I’ll just sit
curled up, my arms bent
behind my head, gesture
of supplication and defense, like
the prisoner who survived intense bombing
when everyone else was killed;
I’ll wait ‘til I’ve outlasted harm,
and watched the whole world go still.
(kz 1978)
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