Transition by Janela Harris

I used to be all

silver jewelry and

shy friendships and

the kind of unusual

that is incremental

and personal

and hard to hear, alone.

I was poised

for many moments

and I said many things. Now,

I’ve come to believe

that readiness is only graceful

in brief moments. Now,

I feel a hardness

in my stomach, and

I look around too much.

I have done unnoble things:

I’ve spit

and hid

and let myself forget

about thoughtfulness.

But I have also noticed

the curling edges of photographs

and courage

and I recognize voices

I didn’t know before.