Beauty

Only really can be portrayed

When at one’s feet

Or when seen from a dirty window

Or from the front of a bus

Where all the shopping carts cluster

Or from an oak tree

That you have known your whole life

The one at the center of the park

With the hole in the middle

Like the place Boo left Scout and Jem things

To be proud of

Beauty

Can be found in a midnight glaze

Of a haloed moon that keeps my consciousness going

Awake alive and afraid

Of losing itself

When I feel jealous of what the one next to me sees

In what I cannot understand

And now I listen to Coldplay on Pandora

And imaginary lines of music dance across the room

In front of an aged Christmas tree that begs for attention

As it knows it is leaving me soon

Because the holidays are over and it has lost its place

But the shiniest ornament rings true

As a genuine artifact

found at a garage sale

Beauty

Belongs in my heart

But often it loses its way there

When it is sidetracked

By hunger or sleep deprivation or weakness

In what it craves

But I see beauty every day

When I try

And sometimes it comes from luck

And I feel guilty

When it comes from the misfortune of others