Poem by Daija Whittington

While spoiling myself with laughter and jokes

I’m accused of being happy.

I shake off all of the irritation of everything.

Fluttering in the light, snowy but delicate

I rush into the sunshine.

I devote myself to magazines, they’re dusty

But the curiosity is trembling.

Inspired by page thirty-seven

of Ray Bradbury’s

Fahrenheit 451