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The ground squeals under others' feet,
filling my ears, and the white all around
is so consistent, unyielding,
filling my head.

But my way is smooth, icy, and I focus hard,
willing my heart to beat smooth, steady
so that my foal legs can gently, safely
bring me home.

(I am like when I was young;
asides, campfire whispers, warning and malicious,
were lost on me, absorbed deeply
in the bright crackle.)

I move so intently that I crawl.
People pass by apologetically,
crunching through someone's yard
to overtake me.

And their back, speeding away,
I look at, my concentration broken,
left only with a sudden whooshing emptiness
I had not had a second ago.

I stop for so long, with a thudding ache,
that my feet no longer know what it means
to be springy and unafraid, and able
to continue.

So I stand still until I am ashamed
at my sudden amnesia, my inability;
but I want to go, and I will--
And I relearn.

14.03.2009



My apologies to those who've seen this on Facebook already.
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