When you changed so rapidly
to the point that your spine pushed
a woman onto your shoulders,shins,shudders and shimmies
-you got away with not acting your age.
When you morphed into a frame of mind
that jutted you into the woods to find and fund
your vernal pool, you absorbed your atmosphere
like the skin of the amphibians around your land.
And again your skin molted, like the adolescent falsetto
that drops the vase, it cracked and required new construction.
You stood taller than ever as your vertebrae cushioned
the new spills you took while painting a proud past.
And the pull of transformation takes you over-
board every time and I forget that you know how to swim.
But this is the fire that burns you over and forges anew-
through fight and vigor, rest and depression:
You had to feel the underside of the tire
in order to avoid shifting down a gear
without using the clutch-
-you are done grinding your engine without any oil.
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