This is What It Means (Poem)

to be here, to walk the cold streets

to enter a busy shop, to sit at the windswept market

kindness a delicate net fashioned with intent

to hold the butterfly of a smile

there it is, just now, and as you walk away

you feel the brush of wings upon your heavy heart

and let it open like a child’s outstretched hand

ready with wonder for what alights