Born originally in a one season country,
Bathed in invisible ink,
She smooched sadness and drank poison,
Yet, never dead at year’s beginning.

No gap between the skin and the sharp fences,
She let herself stay still and enjoy the sky.
Always a trouble than being troubled,
She lived on her own terms.

She is her favorite and that is the truth,
But only next to freedom and words.
A firefly in the daylight singing a tune unknown,
That’s her,
A poem in person.

– Emily Parker


Posted on

August 18, 2020

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