When I opened the door to
my mind every morning
I would groan, saying
It's time to open the lids to
my eyes, hoping everything
would go well at school.
My mind all in a flurry,
telling myself it would be alright,
but than, I would begin to remember
that I promised my best friends
that humorous story about that one kite.
My brain would start to unthaw,
the cruel chill soon looses its heart,
as I quickly piece together my thoughts,
glad, for once, I have a person to
look forward to, look for in the crowd.
People to laugh with, not stare, to please,
and finally let those creative streaks glow.
I no longer had to practice the violin
solo, I could play as a trio, instead!
The mist left, even while we
famed and teased and gamed and appeased
all of us grew, happy and a mirror
image of all in this wicked crew.
I felt my wiring sliding
down my fenceposts, and might have said,
something crazy or some two,
as I described the chaos following
that kite's fabric sticking
to my neighbor's backyard fence.
And as the paint of last year's slur
begins to harden, the streaks
of silver finally begin to show, I have to wonder
about last years blur:
would I be the same soul, frozen coveralls
sealing, stealing, and blazing its cold, cool clutches?