My miniature vault, a glass storage jar, sits on the table
In its own little spot, next to the monte carlo cigar box
As an object of character, it represents my freedom, my rebellion, my sweet descent
My little piece of sanity that keeps me contained
A late bloomer to the bud of the most contentious flower
I hear every poet’s favorite color is green
I am grateful for mornings just like this. <3
Some times it just takes one thing–however small–to make a lasting difference difference.
wise words