Saturday, March 31, 2012

a make believe tale...

I set the stage:  A small house with an attached shop sits beneath the branches of old growth trees, and birdsong is always heard.   A small yard with garden flowers and vegetables.  The shop is for thread and fabric and stitching and a gathering place for women.  The house is not small and not big but has two bedrooms; one for me and one for whomever seeks sanctuary.  A fire to chase away cold, and many windows so breezes can chase away hot.  A small village to walk to, where everyone says hello.  
     A small dog to love and who loves me back.
     Not much to need.  A place to belong.  A place to rest.  Birdsong and flowers.   Light through leaves.  A breeze not cool not hot.  A kiss on skin, a sparkling light, no fear at night.
     I don't know how to build this set.

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