Am I a native plant too, raised in these woods

if my parents moved me here

at three months old

Under dry sticks green leaves sharp brambles

turtlehead grows, I step past, quickly return

she notices, whispers my name

bend and belong to rocky narrows.

One September at four I started school indoors

in a classroom I crouched, hid to be invisible

from the terror of crowding expectations. 

I have never learned to be ablaze in crowds. 

I bloom where you step quiet, look twice

bend your head toward mine