poem for the great of heart

maybe
you are afraid to be mighty

maybe 

there is ease in the smallness

in the pang of the

overlooking

the dismissal

that touches like a blanket

of embarrassment 

worn thin 

with sparest spots of

wholeness at the edges

too old to remove a gray cast

earned from years of
holding tightly

these expectations 

of casual disregard

for your heart of hearts

even so, though, 

warm from the dryer

a familiar discomfort

still contains comfort

the blank gaze

the closed mouth

the turned head

*****************

but, oh, my friend

oh, my friend

you are mighty

you are you are you are

you are mighty