Thank goodness for those who travel in this world sideways.
You know who they are—the ones who’d rather push than pull.
Fate will never shove a bookmark between the pages of their lives,
their covers sketched out in beautiful landscapes, never portraits.
Consider yourself lucky that this is not your folly. You take
what you get and call it a day, under your breath muttering
please may I have some more? The evening news with its
tainted toothpaste and recalled toys is your torture debate.
You break your heart and sew it back together the very
next day. While they see roses on their morning commutes
you see trees waiting to burn. While you look up to heaven
they hear the occasional beating of wings.