It isn’t a place on a map;
it’s a place in time.
It is dark at five AM;
my family is still asleep
It’s too cold to get out of my bed,
but I do anyway.
There is coffee in my quiet place,
and room for my thoughts to wander.
The old cat keeps me company,
he nudges my hands.
Sometimes the words come hard and fast;
sometimes they are slow and labored.
But they are mine;
in my quiet place.
This week's RemembeRED prompt from Write on Edge was to write "Where is your quiet place? What does it look like? What happens there?" My quiet place isn't a place at all. It's the early morning hours I spend with my cat and my laptop. I've been writing so many words lately for NaNoWriMo that today's writing came out as a poem. At least I think that's what it is.