Creatures of Habit

a cloud in the sky stands in the way of me

flying up and into the sky to be with the

birds who raised me as an infant...  when

left on the side of the street in an empty

zerox box of paper...  I recall them not

thinking too much of me other than taking

the time to give me a name...  the name of

"what's-his-name" was what they said to

me when they left...  and, the birds swooped

down and picked me up as if they had been

paid to do so...  and, as my life unfolded, I

what not to do in a nest with others as that

was the quickest way to get kicked out of

the next and spend the rest of the night on

the cold ground...  a cloud stands in my 

way or else I would fly into the sky and

soar up into the sun as I gave up my wax

wings long ago, after reading the story of

Icarus...  and, grew my own but never had

the desire to escape my surroundings...

we are creatures of habit and only seldom

do we have a habit of being creatures as

the latter does not suit our personalities.

18 November 2022