EARNING LIFE

Some people with a flick
hit home runs
and trot around the bases
leaving us
the single hitters
straining for first
stealing second
choking on dust
spiked, bloodied
hands stinging
hugging the base
seeking safety
scoring position
if we don’t get picked off
diving back
wind knocked out
wheezing
with home so far away
making third
sliding
scraping off another layer of skin
then suicide squeeze
collision
jarring the soul
bruised, battered, torn
limping home
every base earned the hard way
never to simply trot through life