Join Me, My Sweet Singer

A little

bird circles overhead. Arching, swooping my astir little bird

come flit over to me, my dear. Your sweeping

delicate feathers caressing the air
 
escaping the incoming northern chill– the
 
frosting of leaves and sweet snowflake kisses.
  
Greet me here after your journey over

hills and through the meadows.

Imperturbed, I rest

jostled only by a lackadaisical breeze that

kicks up the fan of my skirt playfully.
  
Land here. Lie down with

me. The sun overhead beaming down on the
 
nape of my neck, the crest of yours. With the

orchestra of rustling cattails, the

prickling of shorn grass into our tummies,

quietly sing to me.       

Rest with me on this damp earth. Let your toes

skim the muddy water. Let

the grit and grime kiss your ankles, your small breast.

Unconsciously, align your breaths with mine and the

velveteen sky before you head on your

way. Take a moment and e-

xist with me. Allow this precious pond to heal

you, gentle you. Allow

zero lingering worries to return with you to the sky.