Lift
(A Breath Away)
Wind beneath the curlew’s wings
blows past me, taunting to lift.
It stalls in tangled mangroves,
unaware of its own capabilities.
I look at my hand’s liver spots, wrinkles,
pulsing veins, crooked nails,
Wonder when the wind
will pull them away.
[RK, 3/12/21]
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