Sometimes
I lose my way
Sometimes
I figure out how to stand up for myself
Sometimes
I weigh out the evidence
and find the truth is still elusive
I’ve lived here for more than 50 years
you’d think I’d be used to the terrain
But still
my humanness
is carried in your holster
or propped up and sighted in
waiting for me to tip and turn
the wrong way
my breast fully exposed
in the barrel’s sights
What will you see this time
Your open shot
or that I am
lonely and imperfect
same as you
© 2023 Jennifer Wagner