Raccoon
As my more ambitious classmatesMarched through college and took
Office jobs, got married to their
High-school sweethearts, bought
Nice homes in suburbs similar
To those in which we'd grown,
And got to raising children who
Grew into copies of themselves,
I lived a sort of raccoon's life.
I moved from place to place
Within the city, staying nowhere
Long, and lived on scraps
Of this and that. I spent long
Hours by myself, traveling
On foot from public beaches,
Marshy parks, tobacco shops,
And my true home: the great
Library in the shadow of
The towers of downtown.
In it, more than the colleges
I'd enter and abruptly leave,
I learned the things I had to know.
A decade passed, such splendid
Years, but then the raccoon rose
Up, lost his fur, and seemed to turn
Into a man, who married, bought
A house, and raised a litter of his
Own. When I meet my old
Classmates, I can seem as if
I'm fully human, but, within
This skin, the raccoon's spirit
Lives, and I grow eager to
Drop to all fours and wander
Off alone.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 48 times
Written on 2016-12-28 at 15:07
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