Yesterday I went to my first interview in about 15 years (I’ve worked in that time, but my several jobs have sort of developed outside the normal process). It was exhilarating, and scary, and I’m still feeling a bit jumpy. So, poetry seems like a good outlet.
Butterflies dance inside.
The flick and whisper of silken wings
that brush past heart, lungs, abdomen.
They make me jump.
The feeling, not unpleasant,
I want to join the dance,
but I don’t know…
my feet are clumsy in these high-heeled shoes.