If I could hold you in my hand

If I could hold you in my hand
my feet would be planted – flat
for fear I would drop you
and lose you in the leaves

I’d root myself
in the dirt
and pray I’d grow and grow
but I am not a tree
thus you see
I have to let you go

Paperweight

I wish I were
Girls scratching at winter tights-
happy shoes clicking with music on cold hard floors
Or
Dogs chasing bicycle wheels-
paws on pavement more sure than mind
Mine
Are not so sure
nor happy

At times I know
I am a paperweight
something small and heavy
shaped like something useful
Perhaps I will grow legs and walk off this desk
into something strange
and beautifully and incredibly painful

Profile: Amanda Wolfe