set

I am not what you are,
despite my best attempts-
that weren't really my best,
or even good.

I cannot speak prettily
of lions, trains, or jacaranda trees.

You zig-zag the country,
forever propelled forward-
ever moving,
pursuing,
building.

I do not travel beyond the immediacy of here.
I not meet,
greet,
neatly display my piles of accomplishments
on a folding table in a Unitarian Church basement-
despite the people
who need me to love them
who tell me I will.

I am not what you are.
I cannot twist words out of context
into something truer.
That's all you.

All that is you.
And it is beautiful.
And I am in awe.

There is not jealously,
no desire to follow you.

Just let me pay closer and closer attention.
And promise you'll never think me strange-
not more than I am.

And I will listen and listen
and build on my own
of my own
till they are adequate enough
for no one other than me.