Appreciation (A Pushkin Sonnet)

Existence seems a precious state of being –
a rare and lucky possibility,
with creatures capable of somehow seeing,
to finite age before mortality.
I wasn’t born an ant (and that’s appealing) –
I’m able to sense consciousness and feeling.
I wasn’t doomed to be a pet or food
(I’m human and can diagnose a mood).

And human-born, of people, I’ve the blessing
of never lacking sustenance or roof,
and seldom suffering unfair reproof.
I’m female and a Jew, but I’m not stressing
from racist acts or bully words. To date,
it’s like I’m charmed. And I appreciate.

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