Next time I think I’ll be a
bear and roll in the woods with
moss in my hair, or flop on wet
rocks in the sun the way an
otter’s life is run, or swim
bedazzlingly in the sea a tropical
fish of elegancy, or be a beagle
with sad eyes to call forth
loving hugs and cries.
So many nexts that I could be,
but none so excellent as me.