One of us lifted a feather.
One of us wondered if it missed the bird.
One of us knew the answer
was not yes or no, but pay attention.
They mistook our quiet
for permission to speak over us.
They mistook gentleness
for a lack of spine.
They mistook wonder
for an absence of thought.
Meanwhile,
the strongest boy in the stadium
was holding the earth in his hands
and teaching it to fly.
The bruised mind they tried to erase
was rebuilding the place
brick by ungrateful brick
and never signing his name.
