photo by Jupp

I want to start January on a blank page
in utter darkness of my google doc
where I scribble as I can’t sit with pen and paper
constant light is a luxury I don’t have as a mother

when the children are sleeping, I have to remain in the dark to write a poem
sometimes I have to trace my thoughts back
and follow the crumbs of porous language
back to an idea rumbling through me

words are my torches I need to hide to not
wake the sleeping world

poems are anchors in the dark I
put down with my thumbs on my phone