Piecing It Together

Up to the tree

scutter, scurry, steal a life,

hide it away from the rain.

Tiny moments here, there

photography—flashes of time;

secret pleasures—

painting, drumming, singing bells.

Keep them sheltered,

treasured up,

from broken loves

healing separately.

Poultices of memory

folded gently, month on month.

Hold the fragile-winged joys

close to the source of breath;

wrap them in warm air

and they will fly on the breeze.

“Step down lady—you are free!”