Living in Adverbs
Tenderly, as a cat unfurls his tongue so it hovers above the yogurt lid before touching foil.
Unconcernedly, as an ecologist strides through muck and what I’m afraid is–but she knows is not–poison ivy.
Self-consciously, as I sat scrunched between two strangers, clenching my core at each traffic light to keep my body from crashing into theirs.
Stubbornly, as lasagna noodles flop away from black plastic tongs, refusing to be baked.
Unabashedly, as a harvestman climbs and climbs, an industrial trash bin aflutter with human hands his crowded mountainside.
Desperately, as a turtle’s hind legs push forth a headless body.
Continuously, as cloud becomes rain becomes river becomes sea becomes sky.
4 thoughts on "Living in Adverbs"
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Happily, I read this poem!
Gratefully, I respond to your kind words! 😉
You really illustrate how good an adverb can be!
Thank you!