Cupped in a deer’s ear, I am held,
each of their delicate hairs sharing me.
Rocked in the sway of a prey animal’s gait, I watch every night
how the stars feed the moon,
the dipper ladling the last
of the sun’s light to her lips.
Deer grazes on the blades that wash with the coast thousands of miles away.
I too am in the long line of the hungry,
mouth agape in awe,
awaiting my serving.
She sways on, listening to the echos of my soul. Agreeing with my melody.
How honored I am for an audience,
to be heard as soft as a whistle.
I blush at the tender grasp of soil
around sensitive roots,
offering me lily blooms, paintbrushes, and bells.
My eyelids glide as snake bellies over rocks do, alarmingly coy.
Roses on my stage
as her head bows.
About the Creator
Told I held up the class, I was sent to a separate room. My dyslexia restricted me, but guided me to performance. Not until college did I learn to properly read and write by speaking out text. I’m here, continuing the practice. Thank you.