Home > poetry > What I saw from across the table.

What I saw from across the table.

I’ve been thinking about what it looks like,

what we think of when we think of someone

who is brave

who is strong

And I’m starting to think

it looks nothing like the warrior we might think of.

No set jaw, no chest thrust forward, no glint in the eye.

In fact,

it’s just one person,

looking small and alone,

and tired.

Sitting quietly at a table,

sighing sadly as she declares the verdict

for decisions no one ever wants to make.

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