Is there a tree if you don’t hear it fall?

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I have studied how to pitch my voice
how to dress for success or sex—

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there is some overlap. Guess who’s using the
mystique of the introvert now. I’ve looked at

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how to rebound on the trampoline and how
to spin on the dance floor and when

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to stop. I will always live with worry—
don’t talk me out of it, darling. Don’t

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speak of peace though there is peace in
the moss on the tree trunk and on

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the forest floor. It is a nano-peace
peeking through the burlap of time. I don’t

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believe what you believe and that isn’t necessary
for love or marriage. Don’t give me your

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perfect answers. It is you I love, not
your tranquility. Show me the next breaker and

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I will decide to ride it or dive
under. I will salvage only a few raindrops

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out of the storm.

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Click here to see this poem published on Diverse Voices Quarterly