Words by Luca Edwards
You do not have to be good.
Just as you do not have to look to the
undying winds or the bounteous mountains of nature to comfort you.
You do not have to tell me.
You do not have to share your trauma in its weightless infinity,
to place delicate memories into my soft palms if it feels safer in your possession.
Nor do I have to tell you.
I do not have to destroy my shell for you, even if
yours lies broken beside you as you heal.
Meanwhile Immortal Wild Geese migrate across mortal borders.
Meanwhile we gaze into blue rays.
Meanwhile we glare at each other.
Meanwhile we look at anything but the sky.
Meanwhile we focus on keys, and keys, and keys.
You do not have to be good.
But you should look outward, beyond
the confines of writing or speech, phone or parcel.
Look to the leaves.
Look to the sigh the wind makes when it
Finds its resting place.
Look to the leaves.
