She lives within her house most days,
closet door creaking
as she chooses which t-shirt to wear:
dancing dogs, fur-bearing beasts,
tigers and midnight moons.
She is old, wise, and sad,
having seen too much sorrow,
but has retained
a heart of innocence
that refuses to give up hope
that a hopeless species
will one day
awaken.
Light the lamp.
Hold it high.
A voice in the wind,
crying through the trees,
is singing a warning song
that only a few of us
can hear.
for Shay's Word List: Incidents Around the House. Note the absence of the second lamp. Sigh.
I am sorry she is sad - but am glad her home is safe and that she too is one who can hear the voice of the trees - Jae
ReplyDelete"she" sounds a whole lot like you, Sherry.
ReplyDelete