|We get beautiful skies here in New Mexico|
"I hate kids I have no patience, " she says, proudly.
and germs - I don't hug,
and white, black, those people - ugh,
and old folks - yuck,
and I abhor this, that
and all so much!
She's so young, still forming like a cloud
rippling, making darkness, pretending she's a storm,
ignorant, in fear of exposing the sun.
But it still peaks through, in her tender strokes
when she pets the dogs, who melt in recognition
of a delicate soul flying,
navigating recklessly through space.
And time? She has some,
to make discoveries,
to land on grounds not yet fertilized,
to dig paths going up,
to make fire burn,
to forget... nothing,
to learn what she needs,
to die, then rise, repeat,
to let it all go
As she leaves, the scent of her pain trails behind her,
but the sun shines.
(Submitted to Dverse Poets open mike.)