When I’m stuck in the trap of malaise
and self-pity flares up in a blaze,
I am forced to concede
that for lightness and speed
this old body has seen better days.
But my spirit’s not bound by the hide
that is holding my fragments inside.
When the flesh is enmeshed
in itself, I’m refreshed
by escaping the prison of pride.
2018 Mary Boren