And some times
I wonder, Why it is,
that I find my soul
in quotes
The lilting prose
of days long past
The musing of drummer
And loon
The careful clause of music
Over a roaring note

I wonder
Where my heart is
That I see it floating by
And feel it
Pulse with life
Only on paper

For as I walk
Down roads of wary men
I search
I grasp
And feel nothing
Feel no breath
No life
Only fear
Prickling under skin

The shame of being
‘them’
the shame of not understanding
‘them;
as they stretch out
arms grasping for a friend
a rival, a lover, a stranger
I wonder how it is
That they have the courage

I wonder how it is
That I find my soul
On paper
And over and again
In song
And watch it float by
In culture

I wonder how it is
That any person
Who knows how I feel
Who felt my shame
Has the courage
To put those words
On display

I remember how her eyes lit up
At the sight of a flitting bird.
I remember how her eyes looked down
Pretended the harsh words were unheard.
I remember how those eyes changed
When she realized she could be loved.
I remember how her eyes drained
When she found she wasn’t his only one.
I remember how her eyes turned dark
Swallowed, chewed up, released.
I remember how her eyes recovered
And she learned to smile again.
I remember how her eyes changed once more
When she learned who would treat her right.
I remember how her eyes grew tears
When it came to say goodbye.