predicate

The ground again, yesterday,
it’s still there, or was, and it’s
still hard with these pauses to
tell where one step begins and
the last one ends,

so might as well admit I’m
still somewhere
on it, the ground, that is, though
proud this time (for once?), not
so much held down as simply

looking, quick on my feet and
quicker yet to be still.

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About mischa

I write things about stuff, and sometimes stuff about things. Depends on the day.