Okay, several of you have asked me when I’m going to post some of my own poetry, so I figured I had better bow to popular demand and post one. This is the newest I’ve written. Enjoy!
VertebraeEach vertebrae tells a story - each bone a testament to what I’ve done and seen and been, who I am and who I will become.
This bone here, low and strong, began to curve and tilt at thirteen, and depending on how you look at it, is either thebeginning or the end.
Curling up, an extra space resides here, allowing the nerves that lie insideto twist and bend, sending electric sensations to my fingertips when I run.
This smooth slope, the outside of my “C” curve, where the muscle is stretched tautly and pulses under my skin.
Here, the concave side, the “inside” of the C, where muscles lie crunched and atrophied, holding on to one another, clinging together unable to stretch out they become one small, solid knot of unused muscle.
As it straightens near the top, holding one shoulder defiantly higher than the other, I am reminded each vertebrae tells a story - each bone a testament to what I’ve done and seen and been, who I am and who I will become.
