What I Am

Not a Gregor but some weird accidentalSamsa cousin, of a branch where the baby birdsAre pushed out of the nest on the ends ofBungee cords, bouncing back up at the first faultyFlutter of weak fledgling wings.Not hurt--not allowed to feel hurt by that whichWould wound deeply dealt to other daughters--No, not hurt, because what could scar is a part Integral to the whole, and as such unquestionableThroughout the existence begun and lived in the shadow of this roof.Not resentful of what I have been handed orJealous of anyone else's straight flush against my two aces,Or hating the dealer or wanting a reshuffle, butSearching in vain for some line in their chosen HoyleThat will let me grow, and grow closer to equal.Not afraid of what I might find when I gather theStrength to discard my harness, not wishingFor different than is here, but only sad that ICannot imagine beyond this (never having known it)And sad that I could truly desire to be free from love.

Author: Katherine Foreman
Source:http://www.hyperborea.org/alenxa/free.html#whatiam
Type: Free-verse