Walk the nestled needles,
quilted land between
grandmother ur-stumps
ent-knowledge
and dug-deep razor clams
oysters and geoducks
in the toe-frozen kelp
waters of the Puget Sound,
dollar sand riches and penny crabs
turned over in the tide.
Make a tiny house
log stacked
chinked with flannels and moss
a palatial kitchen
a communal table,
heart-mates who will come with tales
to tease and tangle,
drink wine late into the long nights
giggle barefoot in the long days
provision with herbs and mushrooms
borrowed from the bark.
Stew soups,
bake bread,
a hearth to crowd around,
or crackle in the silence.
Have cabins,
a sauna,
a bathtub for three.
Light the way with
candles,
scent
pine sap resin dripped
from seed-budding futures,
step lightly,
stumble,
hold hands with your fears
and your joys
talk to the birds
be your own fairy godmother.
