This is only 2nd draft, so please keep that in mind. It has a lot of different trails, even though there's one main flow. There's still a lot of "tell" when there should be "show". But please, gimme feedback- I love it.
In and out of waking
My dad asked me about last night's
event, excited by the excitement I
presented the day before.
My dad only heard defensive tones.
I was not good at covering
I had nothing real to say.
But dad
grew to learn more about
the cause than I,
in just a 2 hour sitting
He did not recognize
my typical tone.
Enthused, he kept asking
what I'd do
what is next- letter to a Senator?
petitioning my friends? Giving money
to a run-down African village?
I couldn't see our faces. Only clearly
remember the voice tones-
the passion he carried shot down
the apathy I tried to hide.
The night before, I was on the metro
going over in my head a million times
what had just occurred.
I joined the choir of voices raised high,
and sat with friends on the hot lawn- I
was grateful for my boho sundress-
which allowed relief and made me stick out
through hundreds of the same t-shirt.
Taking pictures- I held back my sneezes-as
I was so glad to hold the banner high
(but what did it say again?)
And then came the bang,
that lit up the sky,
and I would see the heart of God.
People squealed and ran toward their possessions.
I wanted to stay through the first rain.
We came back together and a familiar voice started
speaking- so soft and foreign and eloquent.
I had known this voice in prior travels, but
barely paid attention.
The second rain struck our heads as he finished.
One by one my friends decided to go, and everyone
scattered. I knew the rain would cease, and the evening
would bring beauty. I knew sometimes you just gotta
go into things alone.
But when they disappeared, I did too.
Fled with new friends -- up the mall we went!
I held them back from running- a hiking backpack, yoga mat
and messenger bag- slowed me down.
It was raining again, before we reach the
Smithsonian stop- soaked when I climbed aboard-
everyone else was so dry.
Wet hair, muddy feet, trash bag dress-
as if I was a life-time nomad.
All the way home, I did not
consider the missing children.
Simply my lonliness...
and wondering where my adventure went.
It was the same old story
of every good deed I've ever done
I shared the Vienna ride with
a proper elderly couple-
(I shared my seat with the Mr.
when the train was too full).
And yapping teenage girls, and
the people
who go to the right school,
wear the right clothes
and have the right manners-
maybe I should've gotten off somewhere else.
I wasn't there to help-
I looked ready to be helped.
No missing dream people enchanted the train though-
except maybe me.
