My Birch Trees

Solid and staunch

each with a unique bark pattern

Like a finger print

Firm snakish roots winding their way

to the center of the earth

Not to be supplanted

Monument trunks

More solid than anything else in her life

She trusts them

The grass blankets the world around them

Carpeting upon which to rest

As she confesses to them her fears

and sorrows

Her branch like arms wrap around them

With the neediness only an

abused child can feel

Her little body leans in

Breath escaping as finally

and surely

she is safe

even if only for a moment

In the distance she can hear the sweet and gentle waves kissing the shore

To her it is the only lullaby she knows

To her it is the familiar

The gulls whine their call to gather their troops for dinner

all of these treasures are her family

and in their embrace

she sleeps

Published by: writersdream9

I have been writing all my life but for the most part, it has been a secret. My parents did not believe writing was a good way to earn money so I hid my poems. Then one day, I wanted to comment on an essay that a friend had written and found myself with a blog. That quiet whisper inside said, "You can write your poetry and no one will ever know.". I knew nothing of followers and the like at that time. So, here I am trying to learn my craft and enjoying every moment of it. My personal details are, I'm 57, married for 39 years, have one grown son who is God's gift to us and last but not least at all, I'm a Baha'i which basically means that I love all humanity.

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