The erect tomb stone, purposeful, durable,
grey and always the same
The rain always falling downwards and determined,
calculated, pounding a moist earth
The tulip always pushing up its beautiful head from beneath
the soil every spring
The magnolia tree majestic and generous, reaching its open
hand, flower fingered and offering
The poetic clouds that possess a mysterious symmetry despite
their fleeting nature
The tender rose, elegant in her gradual death, darkening edges, curling inwards
The moon, self-rationing and self-important
I envied stability, consistency, reason. I envied things that belong
I don’t know belonging, I don’t know stability, or
consistency
Purpose, usefulness and necessity are beyond me.
