A Lonely Giraffe

Walking...
in a maelstrom of my own loneliness,
the shadow of my -d r e a m s- surrounding me,
the past reflecting a small fraction of misty light-
I find ways to give off my own.

Seeing...
my way before me,
to stay me,
no matter what occurs.

Swept...
off my clumsy giraffe feet
for a moment before I could cry,
"I will not die!"...
at least not that simply.

As the disaster strikes
again/when it happens,
shall it weaken me?
Not too feasibly.
Unless once more
my whirlpool leaves bad imagery,
letting me believe
I'm too frail to continue...
that's when I really am/that's when I lose myself,
creating temporary demise, until...

I shine...
my light across my spotted fur

and my eyes

to remind me
I'll survive.


Written in May, 2002