• jaqui.eicher

The Light of My Words

This park bench is my sofa,

this blossoming cherry, my lamp.

The setting sun makes a fine fire


by which to warm myself, though

I tuck my bare fee into the soft grass

for even more warmth.


Soon it will be too dark to write

and I will turn in, but I won't

do that until I have to.


And though the sky darkens, the light

of my words guides my pen

across the notebook pages.


I write to find who I am.



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