Dammit! She never stops learning.
She's learning now. Right now.
Even in silence she hears so much
The way we never touch
The way we shrug as the other enters
All these splinters she fluently reads
She reads unfilled needs and bloodshot eyes
She's learning how to pass one by
Without a hello but with a dismissive sigh
She's learning, always devouring us
She never stops. She never stops
(regarding an earlier private conversation with tng about poetry): Here's a poem, tng, I can get behind.
Why? There's a story.
I could tell the story in non-poetic language.
There's a message told beautifully and indirectly without being intentionally didactic.
I can read it once and get the story. I can read it again and understand it deeper.
If it leaves me longing for a back story (I'm always longing for a back story), I consider it an interesting piece. Thx