While the garden is watered
I shelter with the maple.


As dusk descends a storm approaches,
celestial light graces the trees
and shelters the shadow of the house.

Blooms with Stone

In the garden everything finds its rightful home
a stone is sheltered by a mass of blooms
and so it should be.


You no longer tell time by new rings.
Now as a beam, you measure time
by the nights and days of shelter you provide,
absorbing laughter and tears into your fibers and history.

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