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WRITING
I Return to the Grape Arbor (2/2025)
I lay blessings
upon myself like the blanket of white beauty that lies
out the window. I lay them upon myself unlike
the blessings I never took up as a lonely child
sitting in the grape arbor -
blessings that melted the cold around me.
I am remembering the
sunlight sifting thru grape leaves.
I, hidden in the woody vines
climbing up the neighbors light blue garage.
I, sitting in the grape arbor -
sheltered - off the ground - held by
twisting vines out of view
questioning that that which was holy
was somewhere else.
I, certain that it was all here, that that which is
holy is all here. This is it.
In the grape arbor, my blood I could see
thru my skin, the sunlight in the colors
of my eyelashes. I am in the grape arbor again.
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