New Day

She folded the sheets like an American flag,
focusing on the triangles
and making the bottom layer line up
under the stars.
Her mouth hung loose like a trapeze.
In only a few hours, her parents, and their divinity,
would return like a swarm of ants to a lollipop.

But now, the morning tasted like peppermint
and the house was empty and receiving.
Her newfound trust
was raised like a sword over her new hours.
The power of herself around herself
and alone, with and within, moved like a jete.
Unseen, she was where no one could touch her.
On her own, first, she danced and mumbled
as if her thoughts were lost,
but also dancing.
But even with her minute eyes,
low and framing,
she could see her smallness
unfolding and a newness hum over the pastels of her town
towards more.

Katherine Brewer