Regrets

Santa Rita Mountains in Arizona 8-7-2010

I guess it’s too late to be a ballerina, lithe, graceful and pretty.

I guess it’s too late to own my own horse and ride wildly over the fields.

I guess it’s too late to build a log cabin, all from scratch with my own trees and on my own land.

I guess it’s too late to live in the mountains, far away from anyone or anything.

I guess it’s too late to live in Idaho, a place more wild and beautiful than I could have imagined.

I guess it’s too late to be an Indian princess and live in a teepee and wear a buckskin dress and moccasins.

I guess it’s too late to become a doctor and practice in some faraway place where I am most needed.

I know it’s too late to save my poor dog, the beautiful Irish Setter—poetry in motion. I let him down. He was my friend. He was my heart.

But it is never too late to sing my own song, or write my own story.

It is never too late to love, or forgive,

or to dream.

~ Kathie Adams Brown (4-1-15)

Letting Go

So much of Life is about

Letting  Go.

You cannot hold on,

You cannot keep,

You cannot capture or retain

Another’s soul.

We do not own each other—we must let go!

We set our children free,

We set our friends free,

We set our lovers free, then

We set ourselves free.

We must let go

To Grow.

~Kathie Adams Brown (7-7-14)

Scarecrow

I am just a scarecrow dancing in the dark,

No one wants to play with me,

When I’m at the park,

It seems I am not like them,

I have a funny face,

I walk a different way,

I think at slower pace,

My stuffing’s always falling

Out upon the ground

And though my face is smiling

Inside I wear a frown,

Not because I’m angry,

But because I’m sad,

I only want to be included

In the group so bad,

So off in darkness is where I dance

Upon my secret stage

Where no one can deride me

For the games I play,

No sees the dance I do,

No one hears my song,

Still, I keep on singing,

In hopes that I’ll belong.

~Kathie Adams Brown (October 12, 2012)

• One Single Impression 
• Prompt 241: Scarecrow