Is there a tree if you don’t hear it fall?
​
I have studied how to pitch my voice
how to dress for success or sex—
​
there is some overlap. Guess who’s using the
mystique of the introvert now. I’ve looked at
​
how to rebound on the trampoline and how
to spin on the dance floor and when
​
to stop. I will always live with worry—
don’t talk me out of it, darling. Don’t
​
speak of peace though there is peace in
the moss on the tree trunk and on
​
the forest floor. It is a nano-peace
peeking through the burlap of time. I don’t
​
believe what you believe and that isn’t necessary
for love or marriage. Don’t give me your
​
perfect answers. It is you I love, not
your tranquility. Show me the next breaker and
​
I will decide to ride it or dive
under. I will salvage only a few raindrops
​
out of the storm.
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Click here to see this poem published on Diverse Voices Quarterly