“don’t be shy” they tell me
“open up”
“tell me what you’re thinking”

I look out at my window at night,
And see my apple tree,
I wonder what it would be thinking,
If it had been born as me.

Would it look at the zipper on my purse
And think of the worker who clasped it on
Does she tire of repetitive tasks?
Was she thinking of her mom?

I see a rollie pollie
Walking in the dirt
And I wonder if it sees
The flowers on my skirt

I think of all the thoughts unspoken
And ideas spoken but not heard
Quiet voices in our concrete jungle
Drowned out as the lion purrs

I wonder, who will listen to
The quiet voices in the night
And I realize
It must be me