To call a spade a spade makes sense, to name
all hours of the day, each minute even, to avoid mistakes
we invented words. I think that’s why we use them.
so if you call me at eleven,
we could talk till noon or longer. Don’t kill a butterfly
but go on, eat your bacon. It’s less confusing
when all has a name.
Tiptoeing through the new-found wilderness
Avoiding stinging thistles, eagerly digged rabbit holes,
the ones that get me into trouble, and the bitter berry bushes,
I need a compass to find out from where I came, as
I am going nowhere anyway. Not even in circles. I do not move.
‘Stay who you are’, I’ve only that to guide me
while I’m standing still. While I try to be a part of freakin nature.
If that’s enough, this horrid Autumn too
will pass me by. And I shall proudly wear my new-found name.