When I return as an ant
or quarter inch of head lice,
I’ll have learned
that mountain beyond I wanted
to climb is even bigger now.
I’ll know the width and length
of a horseshoe just in case.
I’ll remember how the Egyptians
made paper, and I tried too,
but kept swallowing the celery
before I could chew it to a pulp.
From the poetry collection Fence Line (BkMk Press 2004)
Poem, copyright © 2004 by Curtis Bauer
Appearing on From the Fishouse with permission
Audio file, copyright © 2005, From the Fishouse