By Rachel Geer | Observer Contributor
The pebble frog, small, round, grey
curls itself into a ball, looking,
for all the world, like
a pebble before casting itself
down the steeps of its mountain home.
It gives gravity, and vector dynamics,
control. A little
Anti-Sisyphus, the frog’s
goal is to reach the bottom with
as little fuss as possible.
It bounces off
even sharp surfaces without injury.
When the ground levels off enough (friction
overcoming momentum),
it uncurls, unharmed,
OK with its new surroundings.
A girl is not like a pebble frog.
When she missteps, she’ll not
roll safely, efficiently downhill.
She’ll bleed all the way down
and lie, stunned, on the rocks where the ground levels
out and the friction from her bruised body
overcomes gravity’s pull. She’ll
stagger when she stands,
OK with her new surroundings anyway.
After all, if the mythical
Malfeasant had had his own way,
he’d have come down the mountain
long ago and let that boulder
be.
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