move through life slowly and do it with grace,
grandma said to me.
make your way like you’re walking through water;
i have not been brilliantly successful, i must confess, since
by nature, or nurture,
my movements are haphazard and clumsy,
made more so by haste and impulsivity.
the racing thoughts and shifting chaos
that roll through my brain are reflected in quick movements
and absent poise.
i’m too easily distracted for serenity,
ever a fan of the shiny thing, and the
regular bruising, both psychic and corporeal
are evidence of my unfocused and wayward thoughts.
apologies to grandmama for my failings,
though i’ve tried,
but evidence suggests that
a gliding and graceful life is more suited
to someones who are not me.