Some Jean Valentine for a Tuesday morning

[digsdigsdigs]

A leaf, a shadow-hand

A leaf, a shadow-hand
blows over my head
from outside time
now & then
this time of year, September

—this happens—
—it's well known—
a soul locked away inside
not knowing anyone,
walking around, but inside:

I was like this once,
and you, whose shadow-hand
(kindness) just now blew over my head, again,
you said, "Don't ever think you're a monster."