worn out from too long nights
spent counting out collected griefs
from near and far.
The Sun gave me Her gift
of the light I could not hide from
illuminating who I was
and asking what I wanted to be
the morning that light came back
into the world.
Photo by Ivana Cajina on Unsplash
Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United Friday Writings.
