Find Me in the Place

Find me in the place where this road began

Before there were gnarled twists and turns

Before we knew the horrors of starless nights

When blindly we grasped onto hope

As if it were our last breath.

Find me in the place where there was warmth

Before winter began to wither signs of life

Before the cold stole away our resolve

To laugh through the rain

As if it were our last storm.

Find me in the last remaining light of day

When the air around us is quiet and still

When tears can finally be released

To heal as we have never healed before

As if it were our last despair.

Published by Quietest Poet

Writer, mother, counselor, flower gardener, recipe seeker, and Netflix lover.

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