Tiptoes are appropriate
at the nursing home,
Tears box my insides

sweat beads on my brow,

the bell rings, the tears raise one red glove

there is always a winner.
Life ends, sometimes slowly;

but life ends.

I promise to learn to sew
to take pictures, to frame art, to do collage,

to write a song,

to dance the Lindy Hop
I’ll learn to be okay.
Dreams that float free,

unrealized, mere pale green buds,
are dreams no less

If you address your fears, their may be unexpected beauty that presents itself?