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To be a goat
Mar. 14th, 2006 09:55 pmWhen I was little, I was a mountain goat.
I would climb boulders and rocky hills, picking my way to the top, then I would sit very still in a splash of warm sunlight, looking down at the world from my perch.
I was a small and slender kid, with nimble feet.
When I was a mountain goat, it didn't matter that I wasn't strong or athletic. My lack of skill in throwing and catching items of all shapes and sizes didn't matter. I was grace and cleverness, and the world was spread out at my feet and it all belonged to me.
I would climb boulders and rocky hills, picking my way to the top, then I would sit very still in a splash of warm sunlight, looking down at the world from my perch.
I was a small and slender kid, with nimble feet.
When I was a mountain goat, it didn't matter that I wasn't strong or athletic. My lack of skill in throwing and catching items of all shapes and sizes didn't matter. I was grace and cleverness, and the world was spread out at my feet and it all belonged to me.
