No Other Place
A gentle wind combs the long tresses
of peppercorn trees and brings
a sense of ease, the soft stroking
of a morning to slowly awaken
drowsy souls from sleep.
I enter the space and take in
the quiet, feel a comfort in being
here, sink into a silky, way off drift
as that which lulled the mind
when, as a child, my grandmother's
fingers massaged my head
and at that moment
there was no other place
I wanted to be.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2023
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