skylight

I climbed inside of my grandmother’s voice.

That childhood, safe cocoon. 

Where no threats lingered past her laughter

And longings were allowed to matter. 

That fail safe secret hatch,

into the untouched vault of infancy. 

The whispers shared below the skylight

The hand-hold in the dark.

I climb back into old fishing boats, 

Remove my life-bricks one by one

And in an unguarded heap between hope and memory

I find myself again.

-b

August 7, 2020

Photo Credit: Anna Dudkova