White Meat

I cut into the overcooked chicken, the blade

of the knife contacting the ceramic underneath.

On my own, I am returned the responsibilities that

I had hoped for.


This specific responsibility, I never

would have imagined to regain.

The riddance of prior supervision has rewarded me

the gift of my independence.


I tie up the garbage bag, just another

responsibility I did not expect to resume.

But even the most mundane of responsibilities

can be a privilege.


–Elizabeth Lacey

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