Under the LEAFY canopy,
EVERY night, when the world is still
we creep out,
like POKEY little puppies,
new to the world,
slowly finding our way.
And we gather the wood;
we build the fire.
And then, better than
spending tons of MONEY —
maybe as good as a jar of HONEY? —
we dance together,
our only witnesses the old owl
and the stars above.
And they will never tell.
Will you?

Georg’ann

Each work week begins
and ends, like bookends,
with an early morning walk
side by side at a quick clip
our stories unfurling like yarn
knitting together friendship.

Not a moment of WASTE.
Even the most mundane
threads become
binding for sharing tales of GRIEF.
Spinning out ideas, plans, intentions.
Recommendations for this or that.
What needs to be let go,
or brought in to sustain.

With sleep filled eyes we walk,
leaving homes we’ve built.
At times they’re sanctuary,
other times more toward HOVEL.
Daybreak this way, with you,
comforting like tea with HONEY.

Heather