"the solitary ones..."

I see her
on the playground
arms tangled in
the monkey bars,
motionless, 
staring from her perch
above,

I see her standing
alone and still
in the aisle of the supermarket
with a soft smile
on her face that
has nothing to do with
Quaker Oats or
baker's chocolate,

yesterday she was
sitting in a Range Rover
next to me at the
traffic light
on Clayton Road...
cars honking their horns to
bring her back
to where she
was.

She is young...or not so...
she is
unwavering in her focus...
she may be
homeless,
the mother of five,
a boy on a bicycle...

but we know
eachother...

we are of the same
tribe.

we are the
loners,
the spacey,
the children who forget to
come to dinner,
the quiet ones with
heart and mind turned inward...
the ones
who
ache to be
alone with their
thoughts

we seek no company...
only the silence of
our own breathing

we long for no conversation
beyond the words that
fall like
dogwood petals
on a quiet heart.

we are the ones that
tiptoe
through crowds,
skirt receptions,
avoid public gatherings
while they
wait for the room to clear
the children to be tucked in
the house to begin its
midnight rhythm
so that
soft waves of
silence can wash over her
shores like
the touch of foam
along the
dry sand.

our eyes meet and
there is
an unspoken
agreement of trust...

i will not ask,
if you will only smile and
turn the other
cheek...returning to
your side of the silence
without
a word...

you have seen us...
we are in
the kitchen washing dishes while
the rest are mingling and
playing party games...

we stare out the window over the sink
and ask the stars beyond the
hedge the questions
we cannot wait to ask
or hear the
answers to.

we are the ones who
find our way to attic rooms and
empty stalls in hollow barns
you will find us
stretched out in a patch of sunlight or
curled in a bale of hay
doing nothing
but
thinking everything

we are "the solitary ones
the inward-facing souls" who
live
deeply examined
lives of
dawn-blue mornings,
soft-footed days,  and
long
sleepless nights
that poke and
sting with
questions...

we dwell in spaces
filled with a
silence so beautiful
it makes us
weep
on the
subway and
stare
beyond the
horizon