booming voices and Christmas trees left out late
Sometimes I think it would be hard to be her.
The pastor’s booming voice making vibrations in her chest
little glowing LED lights on the Christmas trees at the front, shining bright in both her eyes.
Christmas trees….that should be have been taken down when Christmas ended.
People whispering in their seats,
being able to hear their every word.
The crinkle of candies
and the smells of coffee, morning mints, bad breath and earl grey tea, as church goers open mouths to yawn.
The way the berber carpet in the sanctuary catches under her shoes.
Holding herself down in a chair, when her body wants to float away
being so afraid of germs, as the man across the aisle sniffs and wipes his red nose.
I thought of her those days that I was sick
poisoned by rotten food, from an unknowing grocery store
she stood a meter away at all times
at night she shook with anxiety in mums arms.
so afraid of what was not routine
something un-named but mean enough to change the people she loved, change her everyday world
her everyday world already so shaken up since that summer day when Dad said we would move.
She started skating last week, watching her skate was like watching her dance, a beautiful evolution, learning steps by sight.
She skates 2 days a week, two scheduled days
by building blocks her life is being put back together
block by block
Rome wasn’t built in a day