An open chair awaits you.

Clearing it of a tumbling-height stack

of NOs 

took some doing.

Approximately four decades worth.

And now that the rich, carved wood and velvet

of that high-backed chair holds nothing of mine,

there’s space for you at the table.

Admittedly, food hasn’t been cooked…

Uhm tea, however,

I’m ready to commit to.

Candle, flame and flowers adorn 

ridged lengths of milled tree

where our cups may sit.

Breath hasn’t yet dropped to belly-

waiting on your arrival out here in the valley

has caught it between Yes and Oh shit.

A place here, with me,

at a royal oak table welcoming us both

is the stretch of generosity and strength

born thus far.

Advertisements