spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Strong arms hold a precious little parcel.
Cradled there, she appears tiny.
She screams and yells;
Tears course down his cheeks.
He touches the back of her hand;
she latches on with a grip
that can stop ten grown men in their tracks.
She gazes at his face;
he smiles.
She smiles then coos.
His heart melts into her tiny fist
which is still clasping his finger.
He realizes in that moment,
he will move mountains for his baby girl.
She’s a warrior princess today,
but someday she’ll be a queen.
tara caribou | ©2020
Art Consignments in Ninilchik, Alaska
Apologies for my apologies
Poetry by Charles Joseph
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
Writer and Artist
a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind
Poetry, Photography, and Thoughts
The Lies in the Skies Exposed
"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am..." --Maya Angelou
Welcome to my tiny corner of the universe filled with poems that I have written.
Author | Freelance Writer | Blogger
livingforthemoon
Butterwell's Blog
... from a silent space
I love how the title and last line harness into perfection. 💚
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It just finally came to me, a few hours after I wrote the piece. And I was like: Yes!
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Yass!!!!
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Oh how joyous! Beautifully evoked.
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Thank you! I’m so pleased this touched you.
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You are most welcome. And yes it did!
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Beautifully tender, Tara! ❤
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I wrote it as a gift for someone I adore.
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