As an amoeba in the pond
it was challenging to shine.
There was the problem of the mud,
and so much family crowding my light.
Jealousy was rampant—no one wanted
to feel small. So for a time
I wriggled or didnʻt wriggle,
tried not to dream,
and the pond water warmed
and cooled with the seasons.
This is what I wanted, though.
I wanted to swallow
a mouthful of sequins,
make a run for the open sea,
and move like an eel
with a backbone of diamonds.
