Some were spent in darkness –
rising before the sun had pulled the sheets
from its slumbersome form.
Some were left to wane
and cast long shadows as light
poured in pinpricks through the net curtains.
Some were spent in the cold –
9 am and secret;
wandering along old cobblestones
to grass glazed with frost
to find a seat between the fallen leaves.
And many were spent alone
as I began to learn how to balance
beginnings with an end,
and how solitude and loneliness
are not the same thing
but Irish twins born of absence and loss.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019