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This Place Where I Sit
This place where I sit
so unfamiliar to me
this is not what I had imagined
not what I expected
this is not the path I was walking on
must have slipped through a wormhole
a mysterious splice in time
and materialized stumbling
on the other side or,
somehow swept up into a tornado
drifted on the blustery wind
spat out viciously, just like Jonah
to this place where I sit
with all of my stuff, my books
and other things and challenges
I’ve been here quite a while
this place where I sit
my hiding place, my shelter
my comfort zone, my kid calls it home
I’m grateful for this safety net
this place where I sit,
well rehearsed and polished
but I’m ready to move on
Copyright ©
Denise Morgan
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