Creative Work

Counting Streetlights

Elizabeth Green, 15

I wrap my sleeping bag around me
tighter, trying to block out the cold.
The park bench grates against my back,
bringing me back to the bitter night.
The sky above is full of stars—
why can’t they
share their warmth with me?
My stomach rumbles.
I don’t know when I’ll eat again.
Strangers drift by, glancing at me,
then looking away. After all—
who would help a helpless girl like me?

—from devozine (July/August 2013). Copyright © 2013 by The Upper Room®. All rights reserved.

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