No Othering

We must sit alone through This
No one has our back

Not forsaking sunlight then
Nor the sturdiness of these vintage legs

Doors behind us closed, by intent
Facing East, where will our colors lead us

What mystery does the morning hold
What certainty does twilight promise


Ev’ry step a mystery

Sometimes not the pretty type, but just a bloody mess

We each walk the same road, trying our utmost

And whether witness, victim, detective or criminal

We’re left watching, or seeking retribution, a solution or redemption


Oft’ to no avail

But So

Blond BMX brat
I wrote him a mystery
The first boy I went crazy for 
I don’t know what for

Day after day did I watch 
From my window 
My letter in his hands
I wonder what I said

Perhaps it was just my gesture
Each day he pedaled faster
I heard him finally take a guess
He had hope in his voice, or disbelief