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Something has disappeared that was no good after all.
In a late night happy-tired stretch
she sees she’s just the same she that she’s
always been,
and she feels will always be.
Not a teacher, not a writer,
not a spiritual person,
not wearing this religion or waving that flag,
not even a mother or wife,
not nothing
not something either.
Earlier that day she met together with others
in sameness
with no thought
“We are the same”. Just meeting them
as that moment came along
then the next and the next,
like a good tap dancer
meets each moment of rhythm with matching feet.
Later (now)