breathe in
collective sigh
stand still for a while
and smell the fresh of microscopic forest.
in this silent moment
we are reminded to look
open our eyes
take it in, it’s all that matters.
it’s not even a houseplant.
when we take it in, look close,
moss is only one part
of the click of a bicycle wheel
a flush of red on a cheek
someone’s defiant glance
the way the sun hits the morning grass.
it’s gestures,
sweetness on the tongue
bitter loss
in the eyes.
it’s a hand on a doorknob, years written on a face,
discarded tissue, gallery floors,
and a determined walking pace.
it’s lipstick passed along
the curl of a tail
spiderwebs blowing in the wind
until they turn to dust
accidental reflections, the smallness of the howl, ear-to-ear-laughter,
the tap of birds’ claws on corrugated sky,
worm’s steady crawl like shadow’s creep
through neverending mountains of green,
it’s the fraying of a person,
their softness,
their edges,
it’s seeing that a person is made up of many small moments
just like life is made up of many sketches,
it’s paying attention
it’s drawing
it’s a lesson we are learning
maybe it’s one we keep.