Poem: September 4, 2019

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To choose an expertise is to step into a trap,
to place one's tender ankle between the metal jaws,
to walk willingly without a buddy into the riptide
and be dragged away from the shallow waters where
people dip their toes, build their castles, and play.

Too far out on the ends of the limbs, the experts
are separated from the possibility of bark, from
the shifting scents of forest, from the pleasure of
many seats, many arms, many nests. The experts
have only thin twigs, one choice: stay put or fly.