You Name It

Each of us carries the infinite burden

of impossibilities,

a list of all we cannot

one day choose to do.


Determinism is a haze,

a firm truth that defies

clear definitions.

I cannot be an architect—

and you cannot crawl into

the cockpit of a DA20 Katana.


The longing for could-have-been’s

too easily rise to the surface.

That stamp of potentialities

which brands itself into us at birth,

and the cruelest act is its stripping—

like the many layers of dead skin

we peel from our bodies

at every wash, or like

the moving images of the

digital slideshow we frame,

transitioning one past image of

what-if’s to the next.


We must take stock, though,

inventory all fulfillment.

Think of them instead like

pages turning in this one

we chose to remove from the shelf.


Doing so, the story of a family

emerges like a beacon,

calling us back to

the fledgling binding

of shared thoughts and dreams.

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    Collection of Poems by Jenn

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