on the fringes picking up pieces
you see me in your dream
taking notes on the sidelines
while the rest of the gang
sit on high like a panel of judges
or a murder of crows
calling on the next witness
I keep my wings tucked
inside my black jacket
pacing back and forth
along the roadside
keeping my mouth shut
and pretending I’m all alone
you’re the only one
recognizing me for who I am
perfectly capable of joining
your little inner circle
but modestly more at ease
scavenging on my own terms
march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
This is surreal and made me tear up. Prisoners have been picking up trash on our road for a couple of days, being supervised by gun-guys in a truck. Anyway, your poem was incredibly touching to me because of what I’ve been feeling.
thanks for sharing your thoughts on this poem
I like this poem too, the message and the feeling of being on the outside by choice. I can relate.
thank you so much, Judy!
It’s a pleasure to read your work Matthew