I choose to see the moon

I do not see the fog

I do not see the clouds

I do not see the shift until I am drowning in it.

No one ever told me the sky was an ocean

The cloud-like ocean cries, an aggressive reminder of

The tears I am soon to shed.

She tried to tell me something, I did not listen

I did not listen to my head when she told me the

Heat would soon turn to frost

And any reminder of summer would soon be lost

Selective hearing.

I hear when she reminds me of my recent travel

Or my commitment to myself to be tough to unravel

I hear what excites me, what enthralls me

An easy way to forget what terrifies me.

I see the moment fear turns to hope,

That’s blurred line on an early

Monday morning

I see when the hope turns to action,

That’s the clear line I draw across my paper

I see that action lead to education,

An often forsake privilege

I see clearly

How she rises,

To accept what she faced

I see the face in the mirror

And my dread is erased.