I feel this,
whatever it is.
Something like love,
maybe love. Shelter.
It cleaves to the earth
like grass in a rainstorm,
close.
Shelter.
not a hut
but a hedge,
a hearth.
YOU feel this,
whatever it is.
Something like love,
maybe love. Shelter.
It lives like a wolf
in a bramble
gazing out,
through the rain.
YOU know.
That wolf knows.
That drenched blade
knows,
this place.
I just have to breathe
and be still,
then the sweet water
bathes
wraps,
shelters,
loves
maybe loves.
I awoke from the place
where grasses dream
And dogs peer out
under brier.
Shelter,
like love,
Or maybe love.
It stays with me.
Finally.
Good holiday week to you all. Blessings and blessings be with you.
Misty Wycoff 12/18/15
