friend.

sometimes,

the watery

winter

sun

calls my name,

gently,

from behind the clouds,

caressing

my face

with his tendrils of

hope.

but i turn my back.

not now, i say,

can’t you see

that i am hiding

from the light.

but he rubs solace

into my fears

anyway.

— friend.

© Liezel Graham 2018.

Published by

Liezel Graham

Wife. Mum. Lover of words. Lover of the Word. Writer of stories. I drink too much coffee and dream improbably big dreams. The quintessentially weird kid, all grown up and (still) finding refuge in books and words.

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