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Hidden Ways
I move beneath my skin
in ways not traveled
by my brothers
nor my sisters
nor my father's father
nor my mother's mother.
Neither did the ancients
discern my path beneath
the sloughed skin
of the present,
nor did the seer
see the crawlspaces
where I hide.
O post-modern world,
should I stand on a peak
and scream for wealth and power?
Must I be one with you?
Shadows devour
the glowering moon.
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by Cyn Bagley
Hidden Ways
I move beneath my skin
in ways not traveled
by my brothers
nor my sisters
nor my father's father
nor my mother's
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