I struggle with my thorn
but I feel
with or without it
I would not be exalted
I'm too close to the earth
the warm brown fills my nose
like the North Carolina summer
the screaming of cicada
doesn't bother me a bit
because I'm too tired to care.
Keep my thorn
if anything it pulls me up
not like a tether
but a fishhook
tearing in until it's deep enough
to plop me on a boat
flopping for air
a fish out of water.
Yeah
I'll need some work
before I get my harp.
The year of the poem is finished, now it is the year for the protocol! Read about the misadventures of a plant scientist trying to make sense of photorespiration one mutant at a time.
1 comment:
I can totally relate to that. I feel the same way but my thorn is more like a tree! Don't worry, it only matters that we're headed in the right direction, not if we're perfect.
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