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I sit on the edge

gathering these things of little importance. 

2:30 pm rolls by.

we are good friends,

her and I.

She does not talk,

though I understand all the silence.

the birds sing to each other

and I listen.

Prone to forget,

time to move on.

I am not good at that. 

Teach me the ways of a child,

wonder-eyed and golden.

teach me the ways of the robins,

not one of the sky, but in the sky.

I sit on the edge

of being able to see and going blind.

x ♥