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| "I stumble when I become aware of the lumbering, limping, appearance of my shadow's walk, of my walk." |
and barren city block
conspire to cast my shadow
long 'cross the street.
I stumble when
I become aware of
the lumbering, limping, appearance of
my shadow's walk, of my walk.
"Good god that can't be what I actually look like?"
In my mind
my walk had a
dignified confidence, never grace, but
I believed I squared my
shoulders to the world
and placed manly, assertive
steps on the earth.
My shadow reveals
a truth: some unrecognized
damage, some awkwardness acquired when
I weighed so much, or maybe
just a bad pair of shoes.