The people

Some days you look at people and search,
You search for what keeps them together,
From collapsing.
Many times cold feet waltzed across the floor,
When tears trickled out silently
But here they are,
Intact.
The nippy winds blew the rain off the leaves.
As we walked I said it was raining again…
In a different way though.
It is the feeling of past doubts and remorse,
Still present.
It is the coldness that lingers ,
By the end of our fingers.
Some days I dissect our pasttimes,
No matter how vague they were.
I dab at my eyes
Old traces of what was once there.
Some days you can look at people,
Focusing on their watery eyes
And tightened jaws.
In that moment,
They are stronger.
Strong enough to break and rebuild,
Fall to one’s knees and exclaim “I am hurt.”
Their quivering plucks arrows
Strenuous aches for understanding
Is what makes us like them.
Some days I take the long way home,
Searching for the people I knew once,
In other faces.
Who are we when we are vulnerable?
We are:
The people who are much more than what they give.

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