introvert curb-appeal
she wants to see out
but not let them see in
a one-way yard
like aviator glasses
or monitored mirrors
she wants community
and to be left to her own devices
to be missed
and to slip through the scene
unseen
she tells them
cut the shrub blocking the window
then thinks better of it
when the job’s half done
she wants to notice
unnoticed
track
without leaving her own prints
she’s like Janus or Gemini
of two opposing minds
hungry for connection
and sated on her own
eclipse on a night with no moon
we scaled the peak to watch her rise
but found a bank of clouds
draped over the eastern foothills
chilled and sleepy
we descended home
sure we would see her on the way
but the sky stayed a blank pink
then blue then grey
marked by a star a moth a bat
we lit our sparklers instead
scrawled our hopes across
night’s blank page
signed ephemeral pledges in smoke
still she didn’t wink at us
after the boys surrendered to sleep
I set a timer to check on her
but the clouds had swung round to the south
and the only evidence that she was up
was the thin silver tracery
around each small cloud
maybe some nights
she doesn’t want to be seen
just wants to hide in her own corner of sky
and be nothing to nobody
just reflect on her time warmed by Sol’s rays
dream her own quiet icicle-mint dreams
not worry about those worrying about her
just slip away in the dark
no matter who might be wistfully watching
Extroverts
we puzzle for a moment
running down the
extended-family checklist
there has to be one
doesn’t there?
we sit together in silence
thinking
waiting for snow
all day
that tingle of anticipation
getting things done
while they still can be
groceries bought
wood split
sun basked in
walk taken
now all that’s left
is for the wind to shift
clouds to fuzz the sky
and the slow white moths
to begin to tuft the trees
we’re waiting for permission
to withdraw from the world
