Sitting on winter’s stoop
With dodging expectations
I watch days pass like breath
Billowing into smoke on the cold air
Chilly and waiting
For satisfaction

And as I sit, the sun pokes out
And warm rays dance across my knees
And I smile for I know them well
And I love them deeply

But when they leave, it’s as if I’ve forgotten
As I continue to sit with baited breath
For satisfaction to come

Sacred Spaces

I escape

To my room and my rooms
And my castles and hamlets
All tucked away
In my pockets and drawers
On slips and scraps
Held in pages
Protected and patient

You could be there
Could go with me too
To smell the juniper
And see the fields
Feel the spray
Of my own little ocean
And toss acorns into the fire

It’s warm
Where I escape