Poetry — 08 May 2014
by
Bekah Steimel
thumbnail photo by Luis Pérez
I’m picking up the trail
the scent of my future
It’s time to quit sniffing around
stop listening
to the pack of howling critics
who think they own the moon,
and begin walking
with a dogged determination
up my personal path
to the stars
and a smiling moon
who grins at us all
even a mutt like me

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