It Is That I Am Poem by James McLain

Sky, so very shy
shy turns to cry
crimson tears,
turn pink on me.

I do not mind your crowd from a
distance, I rush them in thought.

You confuse shynesss, with confidence.
When I float down the mountain the river
as wide as one hair on the head I adore.

I fall alone, in bones of white, the grey are
my sisters, brothers they, are you as well.

Their skulls are linked together in chains unbroken.


I wink at you from space, looking at the ants...
making mountains from a hill, up above.............