Saturday, January 28, 2017

After Chopping Wood

High abandon exposes
The loved child
Whose whole world is a hearth.
She ghosts beneath
The grown-ups' knees,
As they sit on encircled stumps
Around their flame
With a play of shadows
Dancing between smile lines
As they watch
And wordlessly nod
And raise a toast with tiny cups -
For Joy ever was a spirit best sipped
...with a kiss...

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