by JD DeHart
You saw a promise
in me blooming. What
was I to others?
A dingy doorknob, too
rusted to turn, a child
of dirt and swear words.
A twisted creature full
of uncertain history, crying
out from the side
of the tracks no one
wanted to see. No, I was
a child of the mountains,
birthed from natural
springs, and someone saw
the mountain in me.
JD DeHart (he, his, him) is a writer and teacher. He blogs about books at literacyworkandplay.blogspot.com and his second poetry collection, A Five-Year Journey, was published in 2018 by Dreaming Big Publications. Follow him on Twitter @JasonDDeHart1.
(Don’t miss JD’s poem Truncated. – Elephants Never)