I wrapped my palm around the bamboo reed, pushed it
And it swayed: reluctantly, gracefully
slow motion delay.
I shook the reed as hard as I could
And its strength, its tallness
Kept it swaying slow.
As if this life could have splintered off
Into a thousand opportunities
Like a life that could have always happened
To someone else —
But I wanted it to be mine
Wanted my whole life to sway.
