Reid@YWP

Words scatter 

             don’t scare them away

we tread with trepidation -- slowly, they gather

again

There’s a wolf on my porch.

It’s been there all my life

Holding the foundation of my home.

There’s a wolf on my porch

And he never gets old

on the water floats 

lovely and green and pale pink 

a flock of frail birds.

You are lying on wet sand. You look down. 

The coarse, damp grains cling to your fingers. 

They look ghostly white in the black sunlight. 

The sky is completely devoid of light, 

Inspired by the poem 'Fog' by Carl Sandburg.

He comes quietly, night after night,

soft four-toed footprints in the frosted grass.

He rolls over, and over, stretching

I am grateful 

For the feeling of joy 

The feeling of peace 

Of happiness 

I am grateful for 

My little sister's cheery face 

My friend's laughter