6.

Sanctuary. Sanctum. Sanct.
A holy place of peace and respite.
A safe haven.
Blessed.

Mine is here.
In a weathered, sunken chair
that moves with my whim:
backward or forward, side to side,
around and around and around.

Reading.
Of heroes with high hubris,
villains with virtuous vendettas,
of kings with crooked crowns,
and paupers with pious perseverance.
Commentaries, histories, folktales, and myths.
Fiction and poetry, philosophy and science.

Bound:
the pages to their covers, and I to the chair.
My sanctuary: made to keep hateful things out
and lovely things in.

Day 6 of 30 Poems in 30 Days
Thanks for reading! Take a look at the other poems I’ve written this month here, and don’t forget to subscribe below to follow along through the rest of the month!