What is my worth?
She asks me, a good idea from the shower
She says, she struggles too.
Again I feel the question
the depth, an eagerness to know
Both of us.
Pulling clothes from the line, sandy feet
Shuffle on the marble rooftop
Nothing, I smirk
At the easy answer, my attitude
my honesty, my pride
There is no value, no real worth, inside
my moments
It’s all just now
Anyhow
No different am I from the tree just beside
She has no leaves, no blossoms, no bark
yet is
Holding tight to the ground
yet gives
Shade for the man in gray
View for the bush-tailed chipmunk
Perch for the pigeon pair I saw mating once
a lustful quickie on a pillar
Silent picture for the neighbor servant
girl wearing red.
Who am I but the dust that flies
into my child’s eyes, my own
Belonging neither to me, nor life itself
Able to die more quickly than one
Takes, chooses, a life.
It’s all a dream, I fear, I feel
jaded as the years drag on.
Is awareness always so solemn?
I’ll ask her that,
I think.
