To My Young Self
To My Young Self
you took up nearly no space so quiet you were
never heard or seen see here in the front yard
among the mini Japanese maple tree the Oregon
grape bush the stained-brown fence beyond
you were a piece of beauty bark merely ground
cover harmless or wanted to be seen that way
rain preserved you snow covered you quieter
than a sleepy cricket’s good night chirp harmless
or wanted to be seen that way softer than a
lullaby’s last fading note not seen, unnoticeable
or nonexistent then not really existing
Susan Shaw Sailer has published three volumes of poetry: The Distance Beyond Sight, The God of Roundabouts, and Ship of Light as well as two chapbooks—COAL and Bulletins from a War Zone. Sailer taught in the English Department at West Virginia University, retired, and then earned a master’s degree in writing poetry. Her manuscript On the Doorstep is seeking publication and she’s working on a new manuscript. Recent poems appeared in Gyroscope Review and Thimble Literary Magazine.
