Poems for the Pandemic - Read a new poem by AK every day of self-isolation

Scribe Notes — writing RSS






The baby room that was my office

I'm thankful that words exist in any space. Unspoken, rehearsed, recorded and remembered. Repeated, muttered, released, unfettered. Whispered, scrawled, retracted, erased. Thoughtfully summoned. Spontaneously phrased. What a world to inhabit this world if words.

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