By Edmund Rottworth
When I was little
I would sunbath
In the little square of golden light
That fell in
From the big picture window
Onto the orange rug
In my front room.
Propped up on my elbows and
Feet kicked up almost to the back of my head
I would watch
Strings and stands of sunlight
Illuminated in the dust
And feathery fine hairs
Inarticulate as they trailed.
Edmund is a novice writer, artist and journalist, raised on the coast of California and now residing in the heart of Appalachia.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 