second star to the right, straight on til morning

he found her

under the porch

where wounded animals

hide to

lick their wounds


heartbeats racing

bodies trembling

tears trailing

down faces

covered in dirt

from the dark

dusty recesses


its not clear

what impulse

made him

extend a hand

she looked

like she might bite

but he was brave

and good-hearted

and knew a thing

or two

about days

that might drive

a child

to hide

under a porch


its not clear

what impulse

made her

accept the hand

he had a kindness

in his eyes

and she was brave

even when she was scared

cautiously she emerged

squinting into the sun


the open ground felt




they quickly negotiated

climbing together into

the wide boughs

of the oldest oak

where they sat for hours

eating apples

talking about

pirate ships

that sail in the clouds

treasure troves

and the best stars

to navigate by





  1. Reblogged this on sailorpoet and commented:
    I share this with all of you because this is simply put, excellent from under the porch up to the rooftop. So honored to call Christine my friend, and to be up here chilling out in the branches.


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