Firm Ground

With one foot in place,

I can only pivot.

I could easily lift my leg 

but what would happen to my foot?

I'd lose it.

My heel is locked in place.

My toes have already dug deep into the earth,

their grip unrestrained.

I twist and writhe my body,

contortiting it to new positions, 

Amplifying torque.

But I cannot uproot my appendage.

If I wish to leave,

I simply must sever it at the joint

Yet I can't.

This is my position. 

All I am, was, and will be

Rests where I stand.

Though the hands of those who pass reach by.

They cannot free me.

I am only pulled and pushed

As my body's joints give way 

And my muscles and skin ruptures.

I am left stranded.

My arm was taken to protest.

The other to salute.

My legs and head were packaged

And mailed to run a caucus race and speak for government.

My heart rests with my family.

Yet my foot still stands.

Even when I cease to function as a whole,

I stand.