she didn’t take dance class
or scream for the latest teen beat
she collected greenpeace posters
made shorts from her ripped blue jeans
her books were her friends
oh the places she would go
to paris in springtime
to morocco in the fall
her birkenstocks thought funny
to girls of her own age
her collection of wolves
kept most of them at bay
she often thought weird
an old soul from the rest
didn’t have pom pom’s
or own a short dress
she’d talk often to the trees
tell them her daily woes
for they seemed to understand
what nobody else cared to know
with youthsome days now passed
her lonely nights haven’t much changed
for those trees are still her friends
her shorts just a little more frayed
Lord Heron – Ends of The Earth
Featured image by Joshua Fuller on Unsplash