Faces on a Page

Each rises like a rapid sapling: agile

things that bring some sleek conundrum.

Preternaturally dumb, they rarely seem

to even want to speak; and if they

look at me, it’s almost always in a glance.

I’m seen, if I am seen at all, by chance.

But I refuse to think that I’m the mere

occasion for their being. There has to

have been some persuasion on some side

to foster this – all of us agreeing to agree

to coax this party through the door.

But I do not know what we’re for.

.