Mismatched
Karalee Riddle, Second Place
In between is a strange place to wait. Is time moving more slowly, Or faster than my own pace? I’m out of sync. Like merging onto the freeway to find No flow to match your own. Even if I jump in with a group, Something about it doesn’t work, And I don’t fit. Am I misunderstanding people or misunderstood? The natural world seems slower and easier. The way the wind moves, Trees bending and knowing when to let go, The quiet stillness of a starry night, Sun rays, like a stream of gifts, sinking into my skin. I understand her because there’s nothing to understand. She asks for nothing; takes only what’s needed. I fit with this rhythm, an intrinsic song. Too bad people aren’t more like the wind, the trees, the sun. Then maybe I would match.
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