She watches us with the lens
of an outsider looking on.
She is unhappy
with the lazy sunlight
and the large bumblebee
hovering nearby.
She gives away her sex
with her eyes but not to me.
Instead she gives me
pretty green picture-setting
and holds her words away.
I listen to the sound of
toddlers crying
in the distant playground.
I am too old to whine
but it doesn’t stop
the “but why?”
that escapes my mouth.
I lie down on the blanket
in the middle of the field
and watch clouds skim by
realizing this ending
will be too difficult to bear
she runs too deep within my skin.
And the children cry
in the distance
because they don’t
want to share.
Her pale thin skin
turns red but she is calm
as she seeks shade alone.
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