Three Posts

At the edge of the woods
stand three posts on which to hitch
your worries, your troubles, your cares.
You’ll find you won’t need them when you return.

Foreshadow

A certain crispness has crept into the air
and something heavy now weighs on Tom’s mind
a distant worry that has been hunting him.

Balm


There is no room for worry
amidst all the color and beauty.
Come and stay awhile.

Big Rock


Sit on the big rock
in the sunshine by the river.
Let the water wash your worries away.
Let the birds sing the song in your heart.

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