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Four small triangles

silhouetted against the outside of

my window

The light is on in the hallway

they think it is a moon

they press

their naked pale undersides

against the cold glass

their soft bellies

exposed, they wait

as though the strength of their desire

could bring them to the light


About writehandedgirl

Sarah is a writer who is passionate about social justice, feminism, politics, and cats. She is a columnist and poet and currently lives in Nelson. You can follow Sarah on Twitter (@_writehanded_) or read more of her writing at


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