I couch myself no longer
Cody J. Hartley
The purple barb of the wind used to make me wince.
Now I ally myself with him to keep the keen-eyed hawk aloft.
From crib to coral to coffin,
the solemn brood plod on.
Not I.
I make peace with God now at age twenty.
I will row and ride and lean and loaf
And leap quickly from one rock to another.
I celebrate the clapping of sea and shore
And offer in turn my applause.
I ride roughshod with weapon unveiled over feeble lovers.
I compose myself and cock my hat at her
Who drives me from rock to rock
Up to where the red hawk has flown.
The only goal of life: to live untamed, ceasing not 'til death.
Only then will I recline.
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