a premature deep frost
gnaws at my
bones
as i reach for comfort
to cover my
soul,
the earth turns over
under my
skin-
right where it’s
forever
been.
nature
building fires with
my hands,
atop the soil that
cakes my
nails,
upon land that
returns my
love
in
abundance.
with roses
on your cheeks
we tumbled into wild
garden bed,
grass stains upon
knees,
dirt in the creases
of our eyes.
relief sheens in
the dew
of a rose
leaf,
unpicked and left
whole
to bask alone in
morning
glow.
hands in the garden 
You must be logged in to post a comment.