Being better is hard.
When I was young I refused
to swallow watermelon seeds
Fearing germination
so sure of soil soaking my gut
Feeling my hard rind for a rib cage.
I did not learn to lean into
growth or decay
Stagnation encourages dust
My feet always shadowed
My throat always coated
Being better is hard.
I absorb night air
Coat the inside of my mouth
with honeysuckle sweetness
and open my palms wide.
Being better is hard
shut in closed cars
Inside thin-skinned envelopes
But easier On the River
In my bed
and without you.
“Being better is hard” that’s the truth right there. Great poem! The starts of each of these stanzas are firecrackers.
“Stagnation encourages dust” That is a fantastic line in a truth filled poem. Great!
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