A snake’s skin falls off
in a reaction to rocks rubbing against it.

I go tumbling off
a body numb to itself,

teased loose and scaly.
I fall then —

discarded paper
leaflike on dry ground.

Blown away by flames,
by a wind undetectable;

fire flutters just a bit.
I fall then —

unlike a snake, though,
I keep going. No fall then —

I just go forward.
Just go on and on,

easing my newly naked shoulders
against rocks and sandy soil.

It’s how I get through
breaking news of this land of ours

except the wind
is getting stronger,

stronger
than an average snake can stand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T