No announcement yet.


  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • Afraid


    It’s different—yikes! It has no fur.
    Oh, look how fast they run!
    And that one has so many legs!
    (It’s worse when they have none!)

    The ones that slither creep me out,
    ‘Cause I don’t move like that.
    And I am used to eyes that blink—
    My friends, my dog, my cat.

    But come to think, I guess that they
    Can’t help the way they’re born
    Or hatched or how they move around,
    Or how their skin in worn.

    And, I guess, they have a heart,
    And most have bones like me,
    And need their food and water, too,
    And some safe place to be.

    And now I see that each of them
    Just goes about its day,
    Too busy to give me a thought,
    Just going its own way.

    So maybe I can look anew
    At all the ways we’re made.
    I think that I would rather be
    Observant than afraid.

    So it was waiting all along,
    This thought that I’ve just had:
    “Different,” while it startles me,
    Is not the same as “bad.”