Twenty-three

I think about God
I am a woman
I wear clothes that are sometimes too comfortable
Is my body changing already?
When do I get old?
I ask questions
the same questions
differently
Will I be a better writer when I’m older?
Was I a better writer when I was younger?
The world does not turn for me.
If there was a movie about my life, who would play me?
I think about men
and how they show God’s image.
I think about hands and voices and bicycle paths.
I am a New Yorker.
I eat like it will make me warmer.
Am I living the good life?
What am I supposed to do?
God is in the sunrise. I chase Him
when I wake up in time
down the East River,
past the Domino Sugar building
and the Williamsburg bridge.
I am twenty three and trying to stay in school
for as long as they’ll keep me.
I want to learn everything
as long as it can keep my attention.
Why is good art so easy to recognize
and so hard to create?
I sleep like waking brings gifts with it.
I watch the sun set every Tuesday and Thursday,
over the Hudson, behind New Jersey.
Am I supposed to be this happy?
Will I remember twenty-three
when I’m thirty-five?
I think about the sunrise.
I think about how it sets.

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About amyleighcutler

Writer, dancer, vagabond extraordinaire
This entry was posted in 30 in 30, fall, Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Twenty-three

  1. Beautiful piece! God Bless

  2. zandaltwist says:

    Hopeful and yet captures a tinge of wistfulness. Isn’t it odd that we at times of great happiness find ourselves wondering if the proverbial “other shoe” might drop… that this is the best of what we get?

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