Courage

Taking the low road. Sucking up sod. My belly's dirty, my mouth is cut. They say
I'll do this for a few years, then walk upright. And my eyes will be full of
gemstones, my feet will be precious maps, my stomach a taut drum of mystery.

[Hope is soul food, don't you know?]

Walking too early. Someone kicked me down. Should thank her; someday when
my teeth have grown in. They'll be strong as horse teeth, but sharp. They'll cut to
the chase.

For now, I'm going to crawl. Bear a few bruises. I'll be the exile, the Wandering
Jew, the "woman with the far-away eyes."

Erin Gill
London, England