Thousands of thoughts running amuck
In my head
And no one in the world
Cares to understand one.
You pass by me
And don’t even notice.
I pass by you and I can see
Your whole life
And your world is a world
I will never belong in,
And I will try not to.
But you expect me to have results
Same as yours.
But I am not you,
Not her,
Not The person you would want me to be.
I am a shadow fleeting by,
Burned by the light,
So despearate to hide.
Let me go.

I understand when I look at you
How this is all you need,
A haze of days tangled in weeks,
Where you eat knowledge
And exhale not a word of your own.
I understand you will cure the world
Of its constant ailments
And I respect you,
That is your world.
But I am not you.
Let me go.

I breathe, I breathe
I live by seeing, feeling,
By laughing, by watching the strangers
I don’t have to befriend
Or isn't of the same house as me.
I live by people,
People whose world is built
By wood and chalk
And the dust flies likes ember ,
I live by their world
And get some dust on my face
And I breathe in their blood.
They are the people I want to be with.
Let me go.

Don’t get me wrong
I respect you,
I do,
But you don’t like me
And I don’t like you
And I don't think
We should do the same thing.
You are a block building a bridge
I am a wild flower lost in the wind.
Let me go.

Pitter patter small feet,
Lush green surrounding,
Trees higher than the atmosphere,
Thinking I'm Tarzan,
River flows elegantly,
Hither and thither,
Staining our pristine clothes,
I used to love that Forest.

Little sapling growing between a rock and a hard place.
Weathering what life is surrounding you. No friends of yet
but you are only a sapling give it time. Moments passing
watching scenery elope to shifting seasons beauties.

Sea air invigorating as rain trickled from above dancing on
your now maturing leaves, tickling as each one weaved its
way down, like teardrops they descended on there journey
of life carrying on.

The Cliffside sighs, and teardrops of rocks descend,
woeful of those this motion that swept away, beauty
that clung silently there. The sapling is of branches
and leaves giving needed shelter to tired wings.

Seasons whisper by as the sun and moon dance above
her gaze. Roots delicately weave deeply into the Cliffside
keeping here steady, for if it were to sigh again her fate
steadfast in this place between a rock and a hard place.

Her leaves happened upon a blossom, so delicate in
its serenade of colour against the harsh rock face.
Like a parent when winds were bleak shielding its
frailty with branch and leaves, it only lost a petal this time.

She flowered in the seasons, blossom invigorated the
surroundings of what was bleak, like teardrops of love
for a time they painted vivid etchings on the Cliffside
till they faded nourishing those of lesser stature.

As she yawned on the morning rising above the
horizon, she felt motions upon her leaves.
Never in her time had she felt such gentle touches,
as palms glided over her foliage.

Feeling the breeze from up high, the cliffs edge she
had flourished in growth, now little eyes saw her
in full blossom as the seasons had changed.
Laughter ensued when gusts eloped with blossom.

Pink and light shades of magenta danced between
children, a fence keeping wondering thoughts safe
from the fallen dreams at the bottom of the Cliffside.
Leaves caressed the winds and she was content.

Such warm inviting eyes
I see from across the room
As if they are calling out to me  
Pure joy in my heart and mind
Thinking was it like this all those
years ago when we were young and free
I wrap my arms around you so close
I can almost feel your long hair on me
Music plays softly in the background
I catch a glimpse of our reflection in the mirror
our bodies look as though one
Time seems to pass so slowly
It's as if our motion seems to bend
the very fabric of time and space
I whisper my goodbye  in your ear
Same day same time next week my dear
Oh how I just love to ride those carousels <3

Somehow it wasn’t right to cry
for someone who
no one knew—for years
though everyone knew about Lil
She was the crazy burden
of an orphaned family
whose memories rearrange the winter shadows

“Are we dressed right?
Are our faces adequately sad?”

They loved the skinny, happy kid
Loved—the ones who loved her
knew her from “The Old Neighborhood”

Two sisters approach the body
echoed in black and navy
holding each other’s hand
They look down at her—
They look her over
They overlook—“The Old Neighborhood”
of the Lillian they had hoped for—
took care of as a child....

And in the din of last respects
a comment from an older gentleman—

“The Goldrick girls were all such lookers”

So I was her niece
and not from “The Old Neighborhood”
I have memories of my own....

I was rich when Lil brought play money
from Misquamicut
She brought whelks and slipper shells too
My ear cupped close
I first heard the sea

Not as beautiful as I expected
nor as beautiful as I would know
She gave them with love—without telling
where and when that I would go....

Her hands were always cool and sweaty
Always trembling
Always a cigarette
and an argument in the background

From the height of three
and hugging knees
I see her face against the ceiling’s
white—with panic

Her eyes are never with me
I know someone is with her

“The Goldrick girls were all such lookers....”

Beleaguered beauty
Frail, with stiff grace
she glances sideways
Checking for my safety?

“Our names too close! Confused too often!”

I was to know her horror— as I know her sea

...Her laughter, too late for the conversation
a smoky hysteria
that will not share with her eyes
She stumbles backward through her childhood
as if she has mislaid something

She wants to go roller skating
with her sister, eight months pregnant
besieged by diapers
with stew on the back burner

...And Lil wants to go back...
to a time at the Rialto
to the *****’s boogie

to the edge—before
The Depression declared WAR—

on someone who
no one knew
for years!

And is it okay yet?
...to let her sea out of me!

It burns so!

Mr. Wind blows with violence
Mr Thunder proud and great
They are roaring like lions
Springing on easy bait

Mrs Lightning twice as worse,
Cracks her whip from the sky,
White and purple is her colour,
Dazzling to the naked eye.

Baby rain with happy feet,
Dance from roof to street
They all compete, but never meet,
Never greet  like neighbours.

Who will be the best disaster
Lightning, rain, thunder, wind,
There is only one master,
let the battle now begin