Sitting by the half-turned trees,
as green to their season as me,
restless yet rooted in the breeze,
I realize change is not a verb,
but a noun;
not just a passage,
but a place to be.
A construction zone, buzzing with brokenness and reform,
suddenly quiets, and is home.
Despite what people say,
Change is a place to stay, I see.
despite what people say.