I found it at the mall.
I had been hunting unnecessary things
More for idleness than sport.
My left ankle got some wonk in it
And trying to roll my knees I forgot
How to walk.
Paying too close attention I was awkward:
Knees and hips and viscera without
Connective tissue.
I spied, sideways, on the other mallees,
Out of the corners of my self,
Trying to find if my rhythm had gone
Out there somewhere,
Maybe to hang from someone else’s shoulders.
I was small and the shops were far away.
The throngs were close.
No conductors stood on the 3rd floor mezzanine.
No orchestra in the fountain pit.
But there we all were, moving together
A kind of elegance using us all to be here
In the world, all us parts
Flowing
I am grateful for being small.