Happy Place
it was cold and damp
but the fire didn't care
neither did she
her right leg crossed her left
smiling at the orange glow
wishing and willing warmth
upon 1000 candles
the fire would sing to her in darkness
like some cruel joke
delivering the punch line
on the air of her first waking breath
she sighed a second time
rolling over once more
seeking precious refuge
in the deep end of her pillow
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
Vote for this poem
|
| davidmcdonald | 
|
|
|
