I live high

up

on an

Ozark hillside
in the forest tree tops

where green meets the sky.

And Earth’s
wayside
anchor
roots
caravan
down
to the
flowing
lake
waters. . .

as sunrise’s lavender
light

t r a v e l s . . . t h r o u g h

on its way

.

y
a
d
o
t
p
u

And I. . . nestled
among
the
living,

w r a p p e d
a r o u n d
m y
s h o u l d e r s

in Maude’s old
p a t . c h
w o . r k
q . u i l t.