2009 -- 2.1 (Fall) Poetry

Shape Shifter

Forget new leaf,

I’m constantly turning over a whole new forest.

In fact, being inconsistent

just may be the only thing

I’m consistent in.

I seem to lack the ability to solidify,

I’m just a liquid creation

filling the formation

of any mold I am poured into. Some may call me

fickle, the girl who doubles as a shape shifter.

I just call it rolling with the never-ending punches of life,

It’s a talent, you know, learning to make sweet lemonade

out of that mountain of lemons.

And like a shadow that shrinks and stretches with the sun,

Like the sun that rises and falls,

Like the fall that arrives in a slight chill before making way for winter,

I too am moving and morphing, keeping up with the changes around me.