Maybe he told you
But his voice was not heard above
The silence of the falling leaves.
Or the sharp snap of branches breaking in the
You were busy doing the dishes and he had to rush
Out the door,
The garbage truck was coming.
Someone had to take the trash
To the curb.
You can listen.
I open the window with anticipation.
There I hear the birds last summer song,
For summer is done.
Crisp autumn air wafts into the room
Sweeping away with it
Summer’s dust which has settled in the nooks
Not on open books.
My mind is filled with wondrous thoughts of
Falling leaves and cooler mornings to come.
I look to my garden for one last flower
I find none.
No one has really ever known her.
It is because she seldom speaks up.
She is so tired of
Trying to be heard above the noise.
She does not share her stories anymore
So others just see her smile.
They feel her hugs.
They think she is the quiet girl,
The frail one
Because she is kind.
She is learning that she does not have to explain to anyone.
She used to try but her lips stop her now.
And her heart.
Someday she will meet someone who truly sees her.
Until then she sees herself and that is enough.
While I am in over my head
Through my fingers
To no avail,
They are standing at the wardrobe.
They are deciding which dress
I should wear.
And the soul
All speak different languages
And so in confusion you abide.
They do not.
Emotions overwhelm me (us).
I (we) cannot seem to think.
Words always fail me (us)
I (we) feel as if I am (we are) falling,
I (we) need