Poem: Maybe

it was in the supermarket that I finally knew for sure.
felt my head acknowledge what I was testing in my heart for weeks now.

really

knowing something is so foreign to me and as I stared at the chocolate chip cookies
and the biscuits with the pretty raspberry circles in the center
and the fluorescent orange laundry detergent bottles
and the heartbreaking little birthday candles…1, 2, 3…
I thought to myself this feeling

this feeling
thing. well. yes, no, maybe
it is not always a terrible thing.

maybe there is beauty in feeling scared:
like there is this perverse chance that the balloon will not fly away if you let it out of your
fiercely clenched fist.

or maybe, if it does and you follow it to someplace new,
maybe exotic; with different smells and words and
different hands
strong hands

your heart begins to change

I do not know how or why things happen.
for now, all I know is this:
when.

Poetry Tuesday: Reflections on a puddle (Ode to Wallace Stevens)

One must have a reason for reflection--
an eye to admire variations.
And only so many days can fulfill a day

in which one can be
close to that April sky
with sight of it beneath.

This requires an understanding--
a reason without, an inward nature,
a spontaneous glance.