I wear my wonder
like old running shoes—
not elegant,
not sophisticated,
surprisingly inappropriate
in certain rooms.
I notice how others
sometimes wrinkle their noses
at a blatant sporting of wonder,
thinking, perhaps, I must be oblivious
to the dress code:
stilettos of apathy,
high heels of indifference,
boots of cool reserve.
But dang, this wonder
gets me where I need to go
every inch,
every mile, even
across the room.
When everywhere I step
is broken glass,
wearing this wonder
is the only reason
I can move at all.
published in ONE ART: A journal of poetry
Never give up your wonder, Rosemerry. A beautiful poem. 🙂
thank you, Kaye, for all you do to help keep wonder alive in the world!
Wonderful! A keeper.
Thanks, Jazz! wishing wonder to you!