1.31.16 The broad reach, the brisk succor

For L.G.

I stood , looking out the broad reach of the glass doors and sun-warmed windows. 
Out, into the winter garden, with its golden grasses and sleeping inhabitants. 

We stood by each other , then, each in the brisk succor of the shared moment.
Each of us with those things that felt as though they had scraped us bare. 

But they hadn't , and we'd each healed , turns out , with new insight and solid wisdom. 

As the late morning light glanced off the dozing crimson elder branches.

As birds perched with their innate solidity,  calling out to each other across the land. And went on with their small even lives.