When do you feel overlooked?
When do you feel undervalued?
When do you feel like one of a crowd –
and are just fine with that?
What does it feel like to fly?
What does the air taste like up there over the city?
What do you hear from there?
On the piazza, when the world moves so slowly in front of your eyes
what do you notice most? What is everyone else missing
as they rush by – self-important with their takeaway coffees
and bags of half-eaten bread?
Where do you hide your babies?
What advice do you give them before they
flutter around the old woman throwing dried peas
over the trampled grass?