Against ambition

A poem.

By

Against ambition

Little does she know day by day

I, too, am learning how to crawl.

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Beckoned to the joy that glistens

in her gums. My sweet Penelope.

And though I try to hide it, this

leash around my neck that ends

at something or someone always

somewhere else, when she starts

with a smile from the far, far side of the carpet – just as happy to retreat in the effort to advance –

she reaches me at last and reaches

out to put her finger on a button.

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