Ode to Silver Blanket

When I press my feet into earth’s carpet

I fear I won’t know whether I’ll sink or trip

But I do know the enigma

I think therefore I am, rooted itself in me long before I came here

When the wind kisses me bitterly

I am comforted by the grapefruit sitting in my hand

I do not question who gifted this fruit

But I do question why I still hold it so dearly

When the moon glimmers on my frail skin

The earth speaks in an esoteric holler

Sometimes it hoots and squeaks

Other times it shakes

Planes, often mistaken for stars

Wink at me, assuring me that others exist

I wish others meant something beyond black and white

May the silver blanket cover me in a color pallet only I can see

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