A Woman Among Others

A triangle of polite women
with faces turned towards
differing winds,
arms gently crossed,
toes lightly tapping...
vaguely waiting for a voice
to bubble up within.
We are fractured in thoughts
and eyes don’t see eyes
but feet are placed
pointing at each other.

Pull the pin...
see the structure
collapse in tumbling blocks,
we will be a building no more
but we should be..
I am the weakest corner
with a stubborn angle
that won’t bend gracefully.
Twisting has forced
subtle breaks in my lines
and I’ve hastily reinforced them.
I am poised to fall away
from the easy give and take
of the other women.
I will fall from the grid,
I’m tensed for the impact..
but I refuse to look down.