A Supplicant. Poem by Tony Adah

A Supplicant.



I am a supplicant
Kneeling with my hands forth
And up right
Waiting for benediction;
I am veiled and protected
If anyone pours venom my way
There's a carapace
If any serpent comes again
I am alone
And where I am, barren apples
If anyone pushes me
I can not stumble
But clutch the clouds
And clasp the winds
All with my gecko hands and feet
And I am going.

Saturday, November 21, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: fate
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