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.