Weird girl

She felt like a foot
with uniform toes.
Something to cover,
but familial
to her apartness.
In her years,
she picked up tools
both shiny and showy,
but of the wrong life.
Fools’ gold,
valued as real,
was lost on her.
Mulish, they said.
Others of us knew

1 Comment

  1. It is only when we set aside labels that we get to know the “weird” and discover wonders! Great poem, Lee.

    Liked by 1 person

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