Brave front passing through

Dreams are currently crammed
in small spaces along with
tiny joys of
finding adequate shoes over lunch break,
having figures balance happily
like little birds on a wire in spring,
and inhaling whatever is in the air
on a twinkling December afternoon.
I bemoan my choices, my genetics,
and a wildly energetic imagination
that often keeps me out of the
moment,
but some afternoons,
like this one,
I’m not worried or afraid.
Maybe there’s no room for fear.

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