Mine

 

Thinking back

…I behold once more

the day

the hour

the time

My beloved’s twisted hands held me

close

as I sat perched

upon the long thick gnarled tree

Its limb a bench

a home

a niche of quiet

solitude

A place of rest

Leg’s dangling-

10 or so

 

It was any hour

It was

my hour

 

50 years later

I go there in my mind

to stop

and to ponder

what lies ahead

I examine dreams that are

now behind

me on the limb

I hold fast to

the quiet

 

                                                                                                   Happy Birthday Dad; April 8, 2021 

©K Annie Powell

 

 

Gray Quiet

Far Away Hill in the Morning Fog; All is Dark

75 Foot Tree Flanked with Climbing Ivy (Still Green)

My thoughts are quiet and well grayed down today,
like the outdoor color that awaits me. As I leave the door I surmise
that this is a warm winter day. It is wet but not too awfully cold for this walk.
The well muted color in the wood all around is causing me to forget--
what summer's dense greenery even looked like.
As I turn back for home, I lift my weighted feet up the hill.
Plop, plop, go my own feet, heavy on the pavement.

Waiting.

The Toothpick tree