Oh, this simple life I’m building here at the
edge of this hillside with dew berries and
day lilies, rat snakes and morning glory
vines twisting around every fence post.
The one holding laughs after dark and
peaceful solitude in the dusty rose of dawn,
where I find snail shells and pine cones
and circular fungal patterns in leaves.
Where I meet friends to look for hag stones,
add more rocks than I have room for to my collection,
stow away bits of wood for later projects, and our
conversations fill me up with more to think about.
Where I mix dough with my hands and
forget coffee cups on porch rails and eat
peas straight from the vine while
my dog follows at my feet.
Where I have cuddles at bedtime and mud
finger-painted across windows and s’mores
and stories and little fingers in my hair
twirling to the rhythm of high-pitched hums.
These small joys, all stitched together,
holding my heart against that great big
scary world out there where not everyone
has a home like this to shield them.