Forest

Free Pass She picked it up off the floor Goldenrod paper between brown fingers. Name, excuse, and signature. It’s all you really need. “Look guys! A free pass!” She said. How strange, to me. That’s not where my free passes come from. Hard work, goodwill, and privilege I take my free passes for granted.

My emotions flee like naughty children before their mother I would rationalize away their fear So they hide and nurse their wounds. They hide in pages and screens and notes and lines... Wounds fester. Pain builds. And when I least expect it My little darlings Burst into tears that roll down my cheeks in hot rivers.

Only Just I wake up. Dim lights. As I fell asleep The house popped And ached And echoed Awake, now, only just. Something is different. A new breath. A little breath Almost the sigh of the house - the home But layered above Unique. I recognize it.