unraveling

it is a relief to not be raveled –
but rather to be finely woven

like a sweet grass basket,
or pale roots that reach deep
into the comforts of soil and loam

in equal parts flourish and succor,
I have discovered in us a landscape –
an expanse of trust and generous sky

and things between are not a tug-of-war –
darkness versus the light –

but rather quiet observations
on how sunlight coaxes shadows
into long, delightful things

© Sarah Whiteley

Four more days, and all the work craziness will finally be behind me. It will be a relief to be done and a blessing to once more have the time to actually focus on writing and reading. Be well, my friends – I’ll see you soon!

casting sparks

I said “I love you” that first time
at 2 a.m., both of us standing
mostly skin in your kitchen –
foreheads pressed together as if to
discern the truth of one another,

the beat of it so wildly turning
I can still feel the flutter
(from rib to throat to crown)
rise and curl like windblown smoke
from an August bonfire casting sparks
against the impenetrable dark

© Sarah Whiteley