They see:
Snowmen. Snowball fights. Sledging.
I see:
Fragility. Beauty. Uniqueness in every flake.
They see:
Something to climb. Goalposts.
I see:
Silent storytellers. Gentle guardian sway.
They see:
Puddles. Wet play. Boredom.
I see:
Life.
I feel the call of something I can’t explain.
They think I’m different.
They’re right.
But I belong to something.
This poem provokes me to ask, how do I see things. And what does that say about me? Enjoyed this thoughtful post here, and your two other poems as well.
ReplyDeleteViolet N.