Come Outside
all writing and photography © Ginny McQueen
a small poetry project: concluded September 10, 2021
all writing and photography © Ginny McQueen
a small poetry project: concluded September 10, 2021
how familiar with the vista
with the scenery
the view
will you be before you stop caring
about the clouds
and the hue
when you start to crave the feeling
of more comfortable socks
and shoes
and faraway breezes smell sweeter
because they smell like
something new
all of the numbers
eventually one
one could be less
when it’s all done
all of the ones
eventually none
two together
for better
in sun
two together
forever
for one
would you rather float away
or be tied at root to the ground all day
to see all the world but never attached
or or only see views from the place you were hatched
there’s a third option, but only for some
to leave and come back to where you came from
during the day to float in the sun
while rooted at night when you are done
we want to be green
shiny and new
to stretch to the sun
covered in dew
but minutes to hours
and hours to days
some leaves are most beautiful
when they decay
I used to think she could see us
everyone and everything
all our lives and all our deaths
while we’re silently spinning
and maybe I could talk to her
and she would understand
about the lives and about the deaths
and help me form a plan
I’m fairly sure she’s watching
but maybe we’re too small to see
and instead just sees our roads and homes
lit up like a christmas tree
maybe all she can do is worry
quietly counting the days
hoping we don’t destroy it all
and send her on her way
it rains a little bit
and then again it suns
you’ll strain a little bit
before you fill your lungs
drink champagne a little bit
and have a little fun
if it stains a little bit
dye it when you’re done
Do you see it?
Do you see it?
Tell me you see it, too.
I don’t want to be the tree in the forest.
I don’t want to.
Listen.
Listen.
Tell me you hear it, too.
If you don’t hear the tree in the forest,
what do you do?
I didn’t choose to be planted here
but I can choose to grow
(if there’s water
if there’s light
if there’s warm
if there’s night)
I didn’t choose to this place of mind
but I can choose to think
I didn’t choose this boat or river
but I can choose to row
I haven’t seen the wine list
but I can choose to drink
I didn’t choose this life
and I can choose to go
I didn’t choose to be planted here
but I can choose to grow
is it always so dark in here
is it always so damp
is it always so difficult to find a lamp
or do you just have to wait
distract and ignore
’cause it’ll be different in a few hours more