Tickets for Two to Small
I picked up my pen to write a line or two,
maybe an epic, and found myself hovering
above the seamless sea of a crisp white page.
The pent up ink swelled forward
and hung, quivering at the tip.
A quick breath, a sudden flutter, and a single word
stared back at me from its built and forged home.
A single word, and, at the end of it,
a tiny, pointed exclamation point.
* by Rebekah Shafer
Cool photo courtesy of the amazing people at Pexels.com