Erasable

Soft lines play shadow puppets along the sun's light
As I breathe slowly, rhythmically, a dancer on grass and stone.

You are nowhere to be seen, as I smile and dress my tears
In rainbow colours and crystal sparks, so cleverly, so quietly.

Pencil to paper, life draws me cautiously, leaving scratch marks
On the page.

My eyes wait patiently, windows looking out to the path where
My feet will walk free. Perhaps by then, two or three will walk

With me. Until then, I will remain erasable, no matter how steadily
I redraw the lines where I can keep a steady step, one, two, one, two.

Soft lines, soft smiles, shadow puppets in the sun's warm day
I write, one step ahead of the eraser's grasp, a poem full of resolve

And quiet rage.

Trudi Ralston.
October 2nd, 2014.