Stepping Outside

A picture speaks a truth.


I danced alone happy,

the first time I could.


A conversation

a put down

a clarity of purpose

a scant reminder


A why do we do this

sort of thing


that allows our lives

to become enthralled

by the ones that do.


A reckoning

when time slows

enough to wonder

about how simple

a decision

might be well after


inherent trepidation.


A summer night

stars are out,

a full moon waning

sheds a sorrowful tear

on a quiet reality,

while we all enter

a continuum

that part of our lives

we could never …

but we did.


Another time

we revisit in hope

we might settle

a difference that

when recalled

did help us focus

on why we

hate reminders


Would we ever

again be able,

could we possibly


just how far

we did stray.


A friend once said

they wished the world

could get along

without a fight.


We yelled each other’s name,

never did we speak again.


We didn’t try to look outside.


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