How We Learn by Charlotte Cosgrove

She used to create her own newsletters

And give them out on the side of the road.

These words were loved and nurtured.

At first people took them, thanked her,

And without looking directly at her,

Smiled at the girl who willed change

To smash into her like a meteor.

They folded them neatly once or twice,

Put them in their pockets for later.

After a while nobody bothered to pretend

That they would read them.

They would ignore her, or worse,

Take one and screw it up -

Drop the rough white moon at her feet

Until she was standing like Saturn between them all.

Nobody remembered her face,

She was a mask clad wraith

Who they wished they had read.