If I had to write a poem this morning
it would be about feeling like I
belonged in a place I love with
people I love and
a strong thread of grace
we are all sharing.

The thread is made of heart strings
and our friend John is talking to us
about trees and childhood.
And as he talks we all become
trees and tree-climbers and
now we are reading poems we
just wrote about how it was
before we became too old
to remember.

As we rode home the full moon
was shrouded with ragged clouds
and now it is Halloween morning
and I remain a child climbing
a tree.

Vicki Woodyard