Survivor

Bound by this name, this description, this belonging. 

Together, our people surround us, silent as softly falling snow, marking us.

That which went wrong. Those who are left. 

Names in a paper, holding a face thankfully unknown. The face that haunts my dreams. 

I still see you. 

Nothing to it really. Clouds and lead endlessly dancing as each day slips by. 

Raw. Elemental. Breathe in, breathe out. 

I still smell you.

Be strong. 

I tell them I'm trying, but often I'm not. Because right now, I'm not sure if I want to be what they tell me I am. 

Because if I am, than you are not.

-- Alexandra Stoehr, Nov. 29, 2012

The Best

Of those in the forest, which one's the best? 

Is it the lion, 

Brave and strong, 

In pompous show 

All the day long? 

Or maybe the leopard, 

Beautifully dressed, 

Happily unmoving 

From his place of rest?

Perhaps the bear

With but one wish, 

Roaming about

to hunt and to fish? 

Or is the deer more apt, 

With antlers lush, 

Quiet and nimble, 

As he moves through the brush?

Well all those creatures are fine as can be, 

But none could best the noble tree. 

Give me the tree, 

Gnarly as he, 

A shelter from storms 

that may come in the night, 

His branches the start

From which dreams take flight.