She wished, just today, she could walk
like her mother, the secretary, mindful
not to step too hard across the wood floors
in the two-bedroom apartment for five
above Charlie’s Key Market, careful,

so her mother wouldn’t yell
You stomp like an elephant!

She heard that voice in her head, for years,
until one day, on National Geographic,
she witnessed those massive matriarchs stroll
like mountains marching across a savanna
around baobab and acacia trees, swaying

along ancient paths, fanning ears, feet
raising soft dust clouds, floating. Next time
her heels hit the floor, she smiled—
her new landscape was emerging.