I forget to watch the leaves turn color,
and they are already gone.
Sight is an illusion
when nothing penetrates the clouds of the mind
I’m afraid that if I spend the whole day
stilling the surface of my mind’s pond
it will still have waves
and I still won’t find
the hidden beast down deep
who whispers my true desires
A blank page is possibility
but also, memories forgotten.
We can only start afresh so many times
before we die.
Let’s keep the door open
to remember it’s not a vacuum outside.
I wish I had a field
to roll around in
like that dog over there
but without the possibility
that a stray stranger will walk around the bend
and make it all wrong.
I wonder what it is like
not to have a million possibilities go through my head
like driving rain
before every word I speak
have every curious question
growing like a daisy in the sun,
too many to trample.
I wish I were a flock of dandelion seeds
so that if one of me catches in a shady place and fails to grow
another of me will make it, somewhere sunnier.
I dream I am Superman
Walking through a crowd of hostile acquaintances
They fling their words at me,
and I laugh, because my skin is impervious to words
They bounce off harmlessly, collect in a pile around my feet,
and I trample them, until they are but letters
which I can use to write a true story