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