i could stand here all day

and no one would notice

standing in alb and apron,

still,

sideways to the world,

watching through mirrors and windows

as trucks pass

and bicycles

and dogs.

still.

standing.

fragments of a world in turmoil make glancing blows.

people use words like knives

not realizing thrown words are ninja stars  –

sharp in all directions.

we all have scars.

The phone rings and more daggers have been thrown –

more targets  have been missed.

collateral damages are everywhere.

I don’t do battle.

There are no sides.

a wild black cat slides around my ankles without a purr.

so still

i stand.

under

standing

no 

thing.