Events of recent weeks have flattened me –
compressed me over under through some line
that hobbled thought with negativity,
appropriating strengths I thought were mine.
A colleague slapped an error in my face
that shook my confidence, that shook my hands,
and then an absent friend declared her place
domestic as she scrapped our travel plans.
Those little evils rained on me the way
a straw can strain a dromedary’s back,
but colors now are leaking out of grey,
illuminating white and toning black.
My fortune is resiliency. My thing
is ricochet. My character is spring.