never felt exciting before,
in the many, many times I've changed direction.
Maybe when I was little, and
spun, and
spun, and
fell over giggling (one time I threw up!)
but this — is different, this is new,
and I am giggling.
I tried to do it right, and shook a little,
part from trepidation, and partly
like a speck of iron quivering in magnetic flux.
This way, this way, this way. So many lines of force,
gentle, continuous over vast distance, converging: there, here.
I shook, I was giddy, I was afraid, I was awash
in the strange sense of being headed
in the right direction.
Nothing could be simpler.
There was an old green trampled mat,
draped over the porch steps getting sun-beaten dry after rain.
I'd taken it. It would do.
And when I opened my eyes
facing it and my splayed hands, everything looked just
like new.
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