Stop.
I’m not part of this.
I’ll be leaving now.
I don’t understand
How none of you
See what’s going on.
A herd following
Whoever they think
They should be,
Experts non experts.
Stop, now.
It doesn’t have to be this way
There are so many
Other beautiful
Things to be done
Instead of being
Ordinary and
Following.
Over rooftops fly
All of my yesterdays
I watch them stretch
Beyond the orange
As they disappear
Into my tomorrows
Carrying traces of the
Woman I used to be
A swallow flew between
Me and the sun and all
Was large and calm in
The safety of mother’s
Garden-arms where
Flowers replaced words
And houses full of mockery
Stood quiet in the shadows
Lifted with rough courage
Through serene days of
Life and death threading
Beads of glass around my
Home of earth and bricks
I found integrity staring at me
Like a graceful and loving gift
I will cherish the then and now
And so it came to pass
That she grew up and moved away
No longer walked down
Familiar lanes
Charted her own course
In a faraway place
Leaving behind people
Who would grow to resent her
And cover for their absence of courage
By saying it was her fault
Huddled together wishing her ill
Refusing to look at themselves
Her whole life ahead of her