Take Notice

  A slow steady line curves over and
under finding roots. Dipping in rural
areas only to enter yards of glass.

  Softly I wander. Seeking the knowledge
and owing no one but myself the
answers.

  Dancing stars twirl above me as the
sea of faked smiles are unraveled.  Ah
how so sweetly the wounded legs are.

  So careful of who I speak too. Who
I look to for comfort. I gently cry.
The tears echo in the corners of
almond slates.

   Still I am staring forward. Silliness
opens and I dream wide. Holding tight
until someone wants to help me.

  Oh perhaps the same time they too
are needing. Here I hold you open.
Lengthening myself for all who try,
who genuinely care to grab on.

  Though my mind enters. Who are
those who are real? Who does
care? Indeed the weights are
untied. There are no necessary
means to be fake.

  So the sighs come. The sleep
entertains and the silence
closes in. The tears fall. Creasing
the freckled cheeks. Blending
a pathway so clear no one even
views the streaks.

  Yes I feel alone in an organization
full of siblings. Unwinding sleep finds
a deep root where glass shards are
really feathers.

  Though really I join, I force but
yet none invite. A baker,  a sister,
a friend. A soloist and a quiet one.

  Take notice of the roots. Take notice
of the rivers. Take notice and do it
before it fades.