Graceless man may I accompany you?
Seems we could stabilize the other.
You with your crooked arms and no laces for shoes,
I without quarter from this souther.
We may dream impossibly but we might have each other.
A life built from stones and streams to great trees and winter’s toll.
A fire to build and silence to keep until we thin to old.
Then, dear man with graces you learned
In the crook of your arm
And wool knitted to warm,
Our life would be happy.
Stunning. As always.