Wednesday, February 10, 2016

You drift in

In a training last week, we were asked to write a story about courage. Of course, I wrote a poem...

You drift in 
and sit too close 
to my skin. I cringe. You
look nothing like me. We 
can't be friends. But 
then you speak 
and I begin 
to wonder 
about the power 
we share. Your space 
feels less foreign, 
your tears are more clear. 
I listen, with my hand 
on my chin 
to the breaks in your speech. 
I watch 
the hairs on your arm 
rise from bumped skin. 
You feel what I feel. 
We are the same. 
We don't share a life, 
but we do share the game.