Walking through the overgrown grass

watching the winged dust motes

float away

I pick up the walnuts


Some lay clean, dry,

on top of the grass

These are easy to find and pick up


Some are covered by the

same long blades that

tickle my ankles

and I barely spot them


Some are still sort of encased in their skin

the pulp around the hard shell

not yet all pulled off

and I have to help them

shed it, but underneath

they’re mostly ready


Some are green and the shell

is still

firmly attached

They aren’t ready yet

so I leave them be


And it made me think

how much people

are like walnuts


Some are out and ready

and know who they are



Some are sure of themselves

but get hidden

in the background sometimes

You have to look for them


Some aren’t quite comfortable

just yet

and need a little encouragement

to get them going


And some

you just have to be patient,

because they’re not ready yet

Still figuring themselves out

and not ready to share

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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