Another half

You talk about yourself as whole
when others insist you are fragmented, a half of a lemon
a halved moon, an incomplete dent

because you do not have a trail that runs behind you
like a school of ducks
running with small feet toward the water

as if the things that stand on their own
cannot be compelte
when was the last time you looked at a tree?

full branches, leaves, bird nests
bird song, water
you can stand tall and be whole

you contain more of the universe
when you stand upright
because you know you can bend without breaking

into a million little pieces
that scatter like glitter facing
the wind

you are aware of the effects
of lonesomeness too
the longer nights, the unending realizations

that you can be part of the day
without being an active ingredient
in the making of the every minute

yet you cry
for the days that are wasted since they drag
like long unfiltered cigarettes

leaning over the view of the river
you will note
you can be the current and the overflow

just wait and shut your ears when you hear
talk about someone to complete your life

to be the other side of you, like a flipped coin