Vol 11, Num 8 :: 2012.04.13 — 2012.04.26
I am always going astray in some form or other,
my thoughts during the sermon or even mid-song
running for the hills,
my words in conversation leaping straight
into the ditch.
How embarrassing to be a sheep,
so foolish and dependent on the care
of someone else.
How unsophisticated.
How un-American.
I am doing my best to appear unfazed by my bruised
and branch-caught limbs, but my heart is bleating
for someone to find me
and carry me back to where I am meant
to be.
your comments
comments powered by Disqus