Reid@YWP

I gather hope in my pockets.

Shiny stones

smoothed by time.

I think of the bird

that flew free from her cage one day,

Leaves fallen, trod upon, 

whisper of discarded dreams 

as they crack 

under your weight. 

It’s your world 

The first time I heard her voice I saw a library.  An enclosed little nook with a creaking wooden table, the color of the wood changing from honey amber to deep mahogany under the flickering candlelight. 

Lying on plush couches,

Scrolling mindlessly on TikTok,

Then David Muir says something.

“The Supreme Court is destroying democracy.”

What a weird little world,
you sit there and ponder,
with its silly little merits,
leaping out
as you wander.
Squirrels of gray and brown,
birds of bright red,
flurries of color
wait just overhead.

I watch you shine, so full of light,
While I am stuck here at night,
Once I had dreams, a path so clear,
But now I hide my pain and fear.