The Edge of Darkness

I lie in bed, eyes closed,

slipping into the luxury of a nap.

Outside my screen door

 in the Saturday sunshine

a desert dove calls

its familiar coos—

ooh woo hoo

ooh woo hoo.

 

I recognize the lullaby.

It sends me to my grandmother’s house

in the foothills, the room of summer vacations.

I can feel the texture

of the white damask bedspread beneath

my fingers,

hear the ever present call—

ooh woo hoo

ooh woo hoo

of doves below the peppercorn tree just beyond.

 

When I was smaller,

those same bed tops kept me safe

in her Hilltop house.

Outside the long windows,

a dark wood and creek filled

with deep throat chants of bull frogs.

 

It must be the energy of my grandmother

bringing me such comfort,

and the sounds of the natural world she always bordered.

Now that she’s gone

these songs remind me of her vibrations

resting just over the edges of the etheric planes

always beckoning—

ooh woo hoo

ooh woo hoo

ooh woo hoo.

2016 copyright by Katie Pifer witchpetals.wordpress.com

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