Out of the Way

On a blanket laid out,
on the side of the house;
A toy or two,
and a tree with a bird;
She spent her days
Out of the way;
While elsewhere a life,
Was cooking and cleaning,
and minding the needs of others.

She understands
the songs of the birds,
the colors of trees,
and the caressing warmth
of the summer breeze.
She understands her rhythm alone,
But not in the company of others.

Her life laid out
Inside of her house.
A dishwasher, an oven,
A window looks out.
Inside, the lives of others are lead,
and she does her best
to tend to their needs.

Outside of her window,
The birds sing to her,
the colors caress,
a warm breeze blows in.
On good days she sways
with the same soothing rhythm;
On bad days she’s lost,
from a place she knows not.

She’s someone you barely recognize,
and can’t even begin to know.
The birds, the colors, the warmth of the breeze,
There are no others that understand;
She spends her life,
in shadows and crevasses;
She lives out of the way.