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Little Bits of Prose, Poetry and Essays.
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There’s a river, soft and sweet
in winter it runs beneath ice,
beside it lives a woman with
a thousand names, her smile like
snow-melting sun, a grace given
only when she wishes.
She gave me a kiss, and the shape
of her sillouette burned into my
memory like hickory smoke
into a fireplace.
In return I left my heart
in her hands.
She cleaned a blade for me
in the water, “for you to carry
while you walk about the woods”
she sung “to carry you safely
back to me.”