I’d let you in, lifting up
the corner of my blanket fort,
scooting over to make room.
We’ll share a flashlight, casting
shadows like warpaint over our faces,
turning our grins terrible and fierce.
And we will be fearless, young
and fearless, and laugh
at the dark surrounding us.
Another poem from the generative poetry workshop I attend via Zoom. One of the things that happens when you’re restricted in the amount of time you can write (12 minutes in this group) is that I often end up being unsure as to whether I’m actually done or not. Even looking at it now the next day, I’m not sure I’m happy with the ending or if it needs to go further.
