Walking along the paved street
Early morning in mid March.
The early spring hint, beaten back
By insolent winter rampage.

Stopping, buttoning coat,
Looking downward,
Toward buttons and shoes.
Stooping, spying something familiar
In the unfamiliar winter gasp.

Warm hands gathering it.
Uplifting what cannot move.
Cupping it in soft palms, nail wounds
Nearly healed, now healing the almost dead.

We all have pain, she whispers.
We all know loss.
We all are lost until we make a home.
Soft words on a harsh day.

She rescued it, just like me.
She brought it back to life, just like me.
She loved it and all is well.
Just like me.

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The featured image is courtesy of Pixabay.

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