Poetry

Conversation

He held

the light for me

 

I saw the door

there was no

 

Spot – outside

and inside. It was

my first day

 

In the new

house. Dad, I

called out

 

Pointing to

our little

mirror

 

Quietly, he

patted me and said

let your light so shine

Get the latest essay, memoir, reportage, fiction, poetry and more.

Subscribe to Griffith Review or purchase single editions here.

Griffith Review