CLOAK

My gratitude

is a thick warm cloak

but first I must remember

out of the tangled night

to pull it on.

 

J. Pratt-Walter, © 2021

Listen

 I can hear it in the silence

of my ancestors.  Between

their stories breathes a

terse quiet

 

too large for mere

words.  They call it

 

the Voice still

and small.  It rings

under my ribs,

 

an unstopped bell

in the center of my

wholeness.

 

It took 60 years to sense

its strange music

 

but I am going along,

and as I go, I listen.

 

J. Pratt-Walter, © 2021