The fool

I could probably fool anyone

if I tried.

I am small and I am lithe.

I do not look my age or act it –

I am an old soul with windowless eyes

and I try and I try and I try –

to be everything and nothing,

to be extraordinary and just me –

the girl who should call herself

a woman,

who writes in the bath

and cannot shut out the music

of birdsong; the ever-present omen

that life still goes on.

No matter how I feel

or how many tricks I play,

and so I guess that makes me the fool;

fooled once, twice, and thrice,

by the heart I own

which seeks to love me better

than I will ever know.

 


 

Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Signed copies on Etsy

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