Sometimes I feel like I’m a paper person,
all my learning, all my skills,
spelled out across a flattened world,
who now, through some necessity,
has been punched free,
my shape no match for rain or wind,
stepping out trembling

And yet, here where my feet touch stream,
I start to feel
maybe in this world I’ll find myself
finally real.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 11, 2018