Quiet, not like the ticking clock in this waiting room
that reminds me so much of my Grandparents.
This room is dressed in clean shades of cream paint
and subtle matching wallpaper, with its two leather chairs
tastefully off-set from the pine framed glass coffee table,
stood at an interesting angle, holding only a pink newspaper.
Radiators boxed in wood with carved décor betray its age,
as does the single flaw within the painted woodwork
to which my eye is drawn. I notice the spreading lines
intricate in their formation, revealing the tree
shaped pattern. Today I see the beauty within the flaw,
I appreciate my difference. I am silence, unseen art,
without the need to be painted calico or ecru to conform.
I am the dusky pink magnolia bloom, catching the morning light.