you get to an age where
you take up your space

sink animal roots into
animate places, move
by instinct and discipline

you choose, what to honour
what to remember, what
unravels in the wake

you hold fast

where you take up your space
you choose the colours, mindful
time shades and tints

strike the bell

discipline is internal, heedless
of reportage, the only feedback
instinct honed and crafted

animal

you remember, honour, colour
maintain and release, be here
now, you and that papaya, you
must eat or surrender.

Day 23, Stroll of Poets’ 30/30 2019, the prompt being ‘poem about an animal,’ and of course, what are we but animals?