Evening in the garden
Surrounded by fireflies
We'd only just moved in
I spent my time alone there reading
And planted one thing a day
While shoveling the yard
My spade hit a metal box
And in it was a diary
The cover old and frayed
It said: "I don't know how much time I have
But I guess we never really do
I thought that I would be terrified
But it's worse to watch them watch me
Sometimes I wish our lives were simpler
That we never had to stretch the food
That people here would treat my brother well
And that he would know he's good"
I laid out all those pages
And in my study typed them up
It was tough to say how old they were
I guess years at least
The boy who wrote these words
Was an odd and complicated mind
But wisdom's often heavier
When found before its time
He said: "We all get stuck in circles
But nothing moves in perfect lines
Connections underly the things we see
But to nuances we're blind
And I am never singular
I was born a pair to walk alone
My mirror shows the things I'm not
But it helps me feel at home"