Not-Alone sits on the edge of the pond
notices things that 	belong 
as though they 	        belong to her
                             (they do not)

She enjoys  imagining friends in their own homes
swarmed by little thoughts
                           (she does not know what thoughts)

what do they think?
do they nap or clean?

what errands distract them?
what are they distracted from?
                            (she does not know)

but in this moment she thinks
she understands peace

as though peace is cold storage
that peace is airtight
that she is full of peace
                             (she may not be)

in this milky time
warm and white 
she wonders
                          (there is no pond)

Poem and Image by Jo Mariner