Issue: "whisper me free"
snow-lit grove
with chickadees perched
on our palms
you kiss me
softly on my forehead
like a blessing
equinox
otters chirp
to each other in passing
even the smallest
moments of grace
sustain me
deserted beach
a tangled fort
of burnished driftwood
empty now,
except for shadows
and possibilities
I cast the runes
in search of something
indefinable
they tell me
I must learn to make
my own magic
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
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