holy ground: a poem

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the blinds were drawn
when I came upon them,
lying head to toe, in his
hospital bed, his arms
wrapped around her legs

faint light of midday
eeking through slats,
steady drip of faucet
slowing down time, her
face puffy with sleep,
over fifty years of
being at his side
molding them into one.

they told me stories
about their dog, and I
showed pictures of mine;
when she told me about
her broken heart—about
the death of their son,

a flock of birds took
flight from the tree
outside the window. I
watched their silhouettes
against the closed blind,

as bird after
bird after bird lifted
itself up into
the sky.

::

*Don’t forget, friends, we’re taking a break from the playdates linkup for the remainder of December. I’ll meet you back here in January! Praying your Advent season is sweet thus far.

Comments

  1. says

    Beautifully eloquent and filled with grace, Laura. I love this. Each time to rest here with you is respite.
    Praying for your Advent to be filled with the grace of His hope, love, peace and joy.

    Blessings,
    Dawn

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