the promise


the promise
into my arms
like raindrops
in early spring
touching skin
with cold, fresh lips

I was safe here
within these walls
afraid to move beyond
the lines
dug deep
in the wooden floors

I could not say
where my feet
bare and bleeding
walked for years
skin cut
and callous

the promise
stuck like a tick
in long wild grass
as I passed

I was the sky
in dreams
while storms raged
sun shone
and the moon
above the fields

I was safe here
and the promise
was broken.

la fraser March 1, 2017

Published by Leigh-Anne Fraser

writer, poet, photographer, artist, illustrator, knitter,friend and fine pancake flipper

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