When you are as small as me,
the sky is where you find it,
and large things present little danger
such as the feet of people who,
walking without looking,
tromp, cannot touch me.
I am that little
indeed diminutive enough
to thrill to persevere
in tiny heady pockets
of inevitably redemptive air.
Those shallow, heavenly
vaulted voids etched
haphazardly by wear,
that pockmarking the soles
of the shoes of the large
and oh so consequential,
offer the subtlest kind of
salvation, that of being
simply overlooked...
Lucy Meskill
photo credit: Judith Meskill
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