I am small ordinary easily overlooked.

I have told myself this long enough, then

I realized I am as small as a bolt

In a suspension bridge, as ordinary

as a commute on a windy day and

overlooked at one’s own peril. I recognize

the depth of the hole I will leave behind,

seeing my value even if no one

else does until the morning of swaying

buckling bucking collapse. I will hold me in

the palm of my own hand feeling my weight

admiring my strength marveling at

my design. I will put me in my own

pocket I will build I will suspend belief