Triped: the Way a Man Must Stand

Triped, that’s me standing Set on all three, like three sides to a story The one leg, medial, is key to fruitfulness and who would not want to enter, of the host to whom this step is given? Is there another door, one from which lushness sprang? Triped, that’s me planting life The third has more than delight; it is to fashion a brood for hope I tread so soft with one leg in a bag; this is while bliss-searching These streets we trod, amid treachery, can cause a life of grief Triped, my blueprint to walk as a man Am I my brothers’ keeper? Oh yes I am, but not while this triped stand