I don’t need to be promised the world’s fidelity.
There’s a faithfulness in leaves
even when they rot; a faithfulness

in light edging through the morning fog.
A slippery faithfulness in the lotion of kindness,
well intended if not always executed

to gold-star standard. I don’t have to reward myself
with stars, small splinters, or bury a stone
to remind myself of its goodness.

A worm can bring us truth, how it makes its compost
from discarded angst. The opposite of cleaving:
releasing the rock-hold, flutter-kicking through the cold.

About the poet: D. Dina Friedman has published in many literary journals including Salamander, Rattle, The Sun, Mass Poetry, Chautauqua Journal, Crab Orchard Review, Cider Press Review, Hawaii Pacific Review, Cold Mountain Review, Lilith, Negative Capability and Rhino and received six Pushcart Prize and two Best-of-the Net nominations. She is the author of two previous poetry chapbooks, Wolf in the Suitcase (Finishing Line Press) and Here in Sanctuary, Whirling (Querencia Press). Dina’s fiction includes the short-story collection Immigrants (Creators Press) and two YA novels, Escaping Into the Night (Simon and Schuster) and Playing Dad’s Song (Farrar Straus Giroux). To learn more about Dina, visit her website at www.ddinafriedman.com. and subscribe to her blog on living a creative life in a creatively challenged universe at ddinafriedman.substack.com..