The Hare become the Tortoise
You’d ignore the democratic offence
and - being addicted to unruly speed -
cast off compliance
and relegate common sense below your need
to constantly find
a permanent antidote to going slow.
More than a zephyr, you’d wind
along the country roads you know
too well - until that day when reckless pace
skittled you from a bend. Who made
you abandon the race
and broken, ride side-saddle on a piebald jade?
“Better to go slow”
they said, “than to never go.”
