I sat down this morning with no idea what to write. After exploring the recesses of this brain, three tiny poems need released. By the time I write those, I will have two more bubbling about. So happy Friday 🙂 I hope you like tiny poems!

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What if anger was a ball we held

in the palm of our hand

and could set on a shelf

then walk away?

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Long, scalding-hot shower to wash off the day

Soft, fleecy pajamas on a cold-rain night

Eight hours of dream-dotted sleep

A crackling yellow fire against early morning darkness

I have returned to myself.

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What if time

is not a line or a circle

but a helix?

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Are you the person you think you are?

Or the person you’ve always been told you are?

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Death does not change the dead,

it transforms the living.

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Maybe those last three are less poem and more thoughts, but how do you think a poem begins? Have a wonderful Friday, friends.

Beth