In Defiance Poem by Dr.Michael Brown

Neither wind showing leaves how to swirl,
nor rain falling in its favorite direction,
but my determination to go against
the downward pull that gathers flesh
as if we were still only dust
easy to sweep aside in piles,
in stacks, in heaps after ashes
lighter than the gravity familiar with air
pulling us backward, tilting us horizontal, level with the earth,
tucking us neatly, like seeds beneath the dirt;
I stand up and walk away.