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.

Click here to see this poem published on Diverse Voices Quarterly