Big Big World

15 November 2014 | Poem of the Week


a girl walks near
for the first time on her own
in the big world

rich in freedom only
rich in potential
rich in charm

hard wood floors
migrant families
nights filled with sirens
nights are filled with dreams
Just beyond that 60-watt

the lamp was her mothers
the room is hers
like her mother before, she’s
on her own, independent

the clock was her fathers
the time is now hers
like her father before her,
she’s proving the ground

the building stinks of use,
years of tenants, of life
of others starting out, just like her

it’s not much
but it’s all hers
for the first time
she’ll do great things here

her small place in the big big world

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