My Light

My babysitter,

Brother,

Sister,

And I,

Huddle on the green couch.

 

Her laptop,

Shiny silver,

Is opened

On a wooden stool.

 

We watch

With bated breath

As Joe Biden’s

Inauguration

Begins.

 

It is all exciting,

Even though

My young brain

Can’t understand

Half of it.

 

Then,

A woman enters.

 

Brown hair,

Threaded with silver

And gold

Is held in a bun

With a ripe tomato colored

Headband.

 

Her suit

Is the yellow

Of sunflowers,

Bananas,

And bumble bees.

 

Her colors,

The red and yellow

Are stuck in my mind

Forever

And ever.

 

They are

How I think

Of her poem,

Of her power.

 

She is young,

She is strong,

She is clever.

 

I do not want to be her

I want to be like her.

 

There is always light,

If only we are brave enough to see it,

If only we are brave enough to be it.

 

She is light,

And I strive

To be light.

Posted in response to the challenge Poetry Month.

Popcorn

VT

13 years old

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