Learned balance behind the station
circling the radio tower.
Dad let go without letting me know
and after an hour
I was years ahead,
Ms. Independent.
Played in the gutter whenever it rained,
legs dangling in the sewer drain,
filth and mud caking,
then through the windowpane,
Ms. Independent.
Hopped the chain link fence
to capture the flag in the holly tree,
when concrete busted my knee.
Took my victory drips,
no boys catching me,
Ms. Independent.
Kept hearing Dad say, “Slow down, dear.
Pick a different career.”
But I was centuries away,
reading Shakespeare in bed.
Sans common sense, sans sanity,
Ms. Independent.
“I’ll do it all myself ‘cause
I’m afraid to rely on anyone else.”
Too proud to take truth
off the shelf.
A deep-rooted fairytale?
An inherent nightmare?
“I’m my own monster.”
There, I said it,
Ms. Independent.
NaPoWriMo Day 9-This poem is a response to Friday’s Flashback Track “Cosmic Dancer” and the question, what trait or talent were you born with? For me, it’s always been a fierce sense of independence that sometimes backfires. Visit here to see the full musical prompt and add your response.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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