Pen Name

This is the agate. Turns of colors, bends of texture. Utterly common.
But

so very

dear

And then pivot. Hello, mistakes. You found me here and even now, after all this time.

Right on the cusp of

I tried to be the bird.  But the desire was always the reality and that was the problem.
The reality.

Here. In the advancement.

It’s

abiding. The toleration of indignities and follies.  The stretch of it all and the brief quartz crystals of captured light.