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You Know.
Naw, man.
That mirror don’t show you
What you don’t already know.
That sweat under your eyes?
Holy water.
That scar over your brow?
A saga.
You tellin me
You don’t know
Who’s looking back at you?
You a boulder,
A wall of fog,
A wildcat.
Come on, man.
You know.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wrote this poem in December 2021. And then, in the first week of August 2022 — after tweeting that I spent the weekend feeling like Eeyore under a raincloud — my Twitter friend Annicka (@A_Rosengreen) used the words of my poem below, to remind me: I am a boulder. I’m a wildcat.
When Annicka used my own words to remind me that I DO know, the circle was complete! It also reminded me why I write: To share words that matter, and to connect, and to be reminded of my own words when my brain sometimes gets too foggy to remember them myself (Thank you, Annicka!).
Then, near the end of August, another fellow poet (@upjumptedness ) re-tweeted his #MMPKickabout of this poem and said, “I’ve recited this poem so man times, I know it by…
