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chase's poem
November 8, 2014
he stares at the clouds,
not because he wants to make out figures and images,
but because he'd rather not look down and see the lines that are hidden by his rubber bracelets.
he stares at his pen,
not because it is soon running out of its ebony ink,
but because he can't string together the words that will make a difference.
he stares at you,
not because he's memorizing all the little creases and contours on your face,
but because he's remembering.
© Ariel L., New York, NY
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