a new year, a new poem, a recycled wondering; wildflowers

in the gray morning of my becoming,

i slip on a sweater, and slip out the door, unannounced.

i meet the day unprepared and unpredictable;

almost a person, mostly a cloud, momentarily formulated

into a somewhat recognizable shape,

constructed by a child’s imagination.

i follow the wisp of a memory,

and find momentary solace from my existential angst,

in a dream of tomorrow.

i come back to the present and find it changed-

the world has kept turning without me.

i watch silently, a quiet shadow ghost observing the play

of vibrance around me,

wondering if there is a place for me,

among the wildflowers.

[Friends, this poem comes to you raw and unpolished. I didn’t want to share it at first, because it didn’t feel as interesting or vibrant as some of my other arguably more polished pieces. But then, I got tired of the concepts of vibrancy and polished-ness, and who says a poem needs to be perfect, and what even is perfect anyway? So I don’t care if my work meets some arbitrary and imagined bar of good-enough-ness, and I release it into the ether from whence it came regardless. If you are out there, wondering if there is a place for you among the wildflowers, just know that you are not alone. May you be well. May this arbitrary man-made concept of a new year be good, kind, and sweet to you. Much love xo, Dev.]

© 2024 Dev Shirah Suchin. All rights reserved.