By Elaine Equi
Can you imagine waking up
every morning on a different planet,
each with its own gravity?
Slogging, wobbling,
wavering. Atilt
and out-of-sync
with all that moves
and doesn’t.
Through years of trial
and mostly error
did I study this unsteady way —
changing pills, adjusting the dosage,
never settling.
A long time we were separate,
O Earth,
but now you have returned to me.
Poet Bio
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My brother still bites his nails to the quick,
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So much hurt is forgotten with the horizon
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