by David Adès

I’m an old bull now, and canny.
I will not charge each time
you wave your red cape,
I will not snort or stamp my feet
though I know I’m being tested.
The trick is patience and wiles.
I’ll watch and wait and bide my time
and laugh each time I’m bested.

No school has taught you this —
you’re working it out for yourself
pushing limits, asserting your will.
You’re not three yet and it’s clear
you have an appetite for the contest,
an ear for the crowd’s applause.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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