New Poem: "This Evening"
A confession
This Evening
By Tyler Morrison
I sit and wish I were not as I am, Alone and at the edge of things, Observing, perhaps observed, But not engaging as they are. They huddle close, talk and laugh And make connections, Conversing freely, Seemingly at ease, Like birds commingling In the wide blue sky. But then my friend arrives at last To save me from this evening, From changing strangers into fellows, From meeting those gorgeous women, From taking risks and awkwardness, From the point of going to a party. So he and I expend our time. We drink and chat and reminisce, We joke and scoff and smoke. We hide in the crowd but stand apart, Guilty but unashamed. And yet as I now take my leave, Thanking the host and clapping his back, I chide myself for acting as a child. I count the names and faces I’ve learned, The hands I’ve shaken and words exchanged, And find them all too few, too few. The choice was mine, and I refused. I take some comfort in the fact That there is always the next one: Another chance, another time. Maybe then I’ll steel my courage. Maybe then I’ll shed this mask. Maybe then I’ll drop this weight And fly among them, soaring high, A bird returning, natural, to the flock.