There’s a plastic bag taped to
a streetlight in my town protecting
a piece of computer paper
with a message of hope on it.
I read it once and learned
that caterpillars grow alone
and maybe I do, too.
But I knew that already.
I kept walking but the
caterpillar’s eyes made me
uncomfortable. They followed me
to see if I would listen this time.
A mosquito bit my arm
and I killed it.
It’s hard being hideous in
a world full of miracles.
Every time I pass the taped bag
there’s another piece of paper
with another message of hope.
Tomorrow I’ll walk a different way.