might I come for awhile,
little bitty dreams
of yesterday
have returned.
crisp air has forged
a wool blanket, yet
within you I’d feel protected.
air has freedom I’m unsure
of, terrifying ideas
too many possibles,
too many versions of me
compete.
your walls,
could bring me peace,
looking up …
the distance makes
me dizzy.
Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister 
Wow! This part:
“air has freedom I’m unsure
of, terrifying ideas
too many possibles,
too many versions of me
compete.”
LikeLike
Oh, Ben, so nice to see you. Thank you for saying so.
LikeLike
You’re welcome. Hope you have a great week!
LikeLike
Thank you. Hope you enjoy yours, as well.
LikeLike
So beautiful, Miss A. What kind of tree is this? The leaves say sycamore, but I didn’t realize the bark was shiny in places. And what a great place for a birdhouse!
LikeLike
Yes, I believe you’re correct. Sycamore trees are fabulous trees. Beauties, I think. Loved the old birdhouse. Thanks, Shari.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It may be a learning challenge … 🙂
LikeLike
Quite right, I’m sure.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Finding refuge, the reason we must sleep each day.
LikeLike
Everyone deserves a safe place to breathe. Thank you, Shari.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, of course. lovely, Audrey.
LikeLike
Thank you, Butch. ♡
LikeLiked by 1 person