little lightKaylee Frizzell
just as the robin builds her nest
out of twigs and leaves and needles,
i too surround myself
with the things that poke my side
and leave imprints on
the backs of my thighs
from resting just a little too long,
the same things that make up
my nest of a home
with wall hangings of tea-stained scraps
of the morning paper
and cellophane windows
that allow little light.