At 14

To be shy,
to lower your eyes
after making a greeting.

to know   
wherever you go
you’ll be called on,

to fear
whoever you’re near
will ask you,

to wear
the softer sides of the air
in rooms filled with angers,

your ship   
always docked   
in transparent slips   

whose wharves   
are sheerer than membranes.

Copyright Credit: Poem copyright ©2008 by Don Welch. Reprinted from “When Memory Gives Dust a Face,” by Don Welch, published by Lewis-Clark Press, 2008, by permission of Don Welch and the publisher.