Spaz

Pows and bangs are a part of the course, I thought.
I didn’t know how I got all my bruises and scrapes.
I have never been a still water, always a running brook physically and mentally.
I vacillate opinions, gliding from one rock to the other.
No one can catch me.
But it all ended on a Saturday in August when a fat duck did not defend its territory in the backyard.
I asked for a Band-Aid like a child and started to heal one wound at a time.

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