by Jnana Hodson

The element of my birth is air
and I am typically restless.

Nothing can hold me for long.
Even this flesh fits loosely.

Maybe if I grew feathers
I would trust the wind more.

Remembering, how as a child
I scaled trees clear to the top,

as if trying to get home or at least
to nest in some rainbow,

I now close more doors than I open.
What of it, then? What of it.

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Copyright 2015