Period Of Adjustment

In haste you accept me like
Whirlwind
Romancing the cliffs and stone

Then we settle for the nest of
An eagle
Up there where no one climbs
The eggs are safe

What have I become of myself?
Something you feed on
I am still this fish
With scales and gills
Unable to adapt to your lungs and beaks
and your threatening claws
and wings

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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