She’s dizzy, weak
She’s heavily wounded
Yet miraculously she stands
On shaking legs
Spitting bitter iron
Coughing, dazed, stumbling
With broken bones
Into arms of those who came
To her when she needed them most
The wet sand that cushioned her
When she fell so far
The sun that hid from her
In the cobblestone square
The moon that couldn’t find her
Sitting at her warm table
The snow that didn’t touch her
But saw her through that window
And the friend who could read her
Who could hear and see right through her
May be the only ones who really
Know her stories
Maybe that’s enough
After all, as this new day ends
She’s still standing
December 5, 2024
12:15 a.m.
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