Of My Species

I try again to climb the wall of the cave.

Crumbling mud; loose rock.

The distance to light, far above me, seems further.

The rest period has not repaired my muscles; perhaps more inflamed than before my last attempt.

My knee bangs against rock, upon the bruise already there.

My mouth, dry.

Itch of grit that falls in my eyes.

The skin of my hands, broken, worn through, sliced by sharp edges.

I drop back to the ground, among the animal bones, among the bones of my species.

Look up; panting, squinting into the day that finds its way through the opening.

It will always be there, so long as I have sight.

When first I looked in, it was darkness.

These days, these many days, I have spent looking out, where it is light.

vss #44