In the wild corner of my yard
a tall weigelia blooms and branches
out and down to form a cave,
a shelter from the storms
a secret solitary place
I have sat there upon the soft leaves quiet
the birds singing serenades
the babbling brook nearby speaks a language I sometimes understand
A stolen moment in time when all is at peace.
Last night the winds were fierce
temperature punishingly cold
Bella during our morning walk followed a scent trail
under the flowered arch
Who used this refuge last night I wonder
glad for whoever found its’ sheltering arms.