I am not a Japanese Tea Garden.
I am a radiant beam of light.
I am not a tortilla chip.
I am a cup of coffee, black.
I am not an endless pity-party.
I am a reading light by a comfortable
chair on an early-winter evening.
I am not wandering down
the lane and far away.
I am looking at the moon.
I am not a new pair of shoes that
make you run faster, jump higher.
I am a knitted sweater starting
to unravel under the left arm.
I am not Brussels’ Musée du cacao et
du chocolat.
I am an open bottle of coriander-scented
lotion from the Georgetown Kiehl’s.
I am not your favorite YA book ever.
I am a sleepless, sweaty August night
without air conditioning.
I am not anyone’s president, elected
or otherwise.
I am someone who would have done
a much better job.
I am not a writer of stories and poems.
I am the language they speak.
(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: David Ohmer/Flickr
Stardust, lyrics: Mitchell Parish
I’ll Be Seeing You, lyrics: Irving Kahal
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