A poem composed- thus freshly pressed,

Like four leaf clover fold,

Might find and fend the one possessed,

To stave the gloaming’s hold.

Sometimes I write down a poem, fold it up, and keep it in my pocket like a good luck charm. A piece of advice or hope, which I can unfold when I need, to remind myself to keep on. And when I do write something new? Such sweet satisfaction to capture a moment in a rhyme, even when the sentiment is heartbreak or loss. Today, the first day, I begin to let my poems fly.

© Aimee Wood 2022