Dream of a Crab who Wanted to be a Bird

Dream of a Crab who Wanted to be a Bird

by Kelp

These claws are not wings, and can never be so.
This skeleton overcoat protects what’s inside.
I scuttle after light beams on the sand at low tide,
Unsure of how much I do or don’t know.

Eight legs in all but I still walk funny.
Two pincer claws that grasp very little.
A pinhead brain that grasps very little.
I go through my daily grind on my tummy.

Very little of all I ingest is digestible.
My fear is that one day I’ll be eaten in kind.
Spellbound by the waves, I’ll be attacked from behind.
My jubilant predator will eat till he’s full.

To fly high like a bird above this flat earth,
To no longer feel the scratch of the sand,
To trade claws in for wings and feel them expand,
As the sky cracks open like a robin’s egg.

Spiraling upward in a haze of blue,
Where the air is so thin I can hardly breathe,
From all my constraints I am finally free,
And from such heights, oh what a view!