By Alex Chornyj
One Enduring Piece
I was born during winter
While my mother
Was in hibernation
I came with a little sister.
It was pitch black
Inside of the cave
Needless to say
I didn’t venture very far,
At least until the dawn of spring
As parent and her cubs
Seemed attached at the hip
In close proximity.
It was her milk and warmth
That kept us alive
Of this I have no doubt
A dependence,
That would not soon dwindle
For we were her offspring
Evidenced by us
Being black balls of fur.
It was hard to distinguish
Where she began
And where we ended
We looked like one enduring piece.
Our movements had a synchronicity
As did our breathing
We flowed with a rhythm
Like do kindred butterflies.
Forever I heard quiet silence
Then one day came a drip, drop sound
As a wetness splashed on my nose
From our leaking ceiling.
This gave us harmony
Some musical chords
Which awakened her from deep sleep
By some inherent instinct.
So we tumbled down a hill
Right into a freezing river
This world in which we entered
Was tantalizing to the senses as a perfect playground.