The Existential Little Warrior

A poem on a school morning when my daughter asked me why I decided to have her

Sana Rose
Sana Rose
Apr 25, 2020 · 2 min read
Photo by Caleb Woods on Unsplash

The morning chills
melt on my skin;
another race to begin.

Stumble out of bed,
fold the wool,
stretch the sheets,
stretch the back,
listen to the vertebra crack.