Thinking back
…I behold once more
the day
the hour
the time
My beloved’s twisted hands held me
close
as I sat perched
upon the long thick gnarled tree
Its limb a bench
a home
a niche of quiet
solitude
A place of rest
Leg’s dangling-
10 or so
It was any hour
It was
my hour
50 years later
I go there in my mind
to stop
and to ponder
what lies ahead
I examine dreams that are
now behind
me on the limb
I hold fast to
the quiet
©K Annie Powell