Poem for A Rainy Day

   Rough Day


Assaulted at birth, a strike stings me awake

From then on like a baseball on a leash, tethered to a post

I am flung across time, bruised by each blow, wounded but still connected.


How many failures do I hide?

Each one buried in a dormant garden

Where no light reaches rotting roots.


So much courage, enough for a million fits and starts

As every noble stand sends me reeling back, each a

solitary effort of a madwoman, refusing dirt.


How many losses of the desperate kind

Flesh wounds first,

Each new loss digging like a spade

Spreading mourning deeper into fear.


Yet, every strike

Frees me too, until I am unleashed

To float where all strikes miss their targets,

As you cannot hit the air and split a spirit in flight.

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