Knees on the earth, toes curled into weeds,
I dig my fingers into the dirt, holding tight.
Holding on is exhausting;
humans have no roots.
A cat walks by and shows me her claws,
knives curved into sharp white moons, tucked
away in black fur sleeves. With a screech,
small birds shatter to the ground. The cat smiles;
I hold on. Across the street children chase
a ball down the driveway. It rolls away
down the street. They yell: Can you get that?
They are not allowed to roam in the streets.
I dig in: I shake my head, feeling the earth.
Fall away. Freedom belongs to the greedy.
We are all free to be greedy. Greed is a push.
Come on, lady, please! A child trips forward.
The ball has a face. It rolls head over chin.
Faces become wheels. Wheels score the earth.
There is no sense in fighting, children.
Gravity is the greatest teacher.
___
Christina Kapp has published her short fiction, poetry, and essays in numerous publications includingBarn Owl Review, Gargoyle, DOGZPLOT, Pindeldyboz, PANK, Anderbo.com, and apt. She has a M.A. in writing from Johns Hopkins University and is working toward her second M.A. in literature at Rutgers University-Newark. She leads the Franklin Chapter of the New Jersey Writers Society and is currently working on her first novel.
Sunday, April 1st, 2012 2:26 pm
Categories: Issue 5.4, Poetry
