WHAT DO YOU HOLD ONTO 

when the storms come
so you won’t be blown away
or pummeled to bits 
or dashed to smithereens 

do you dig in with old fears for company
or prop yourself up 
on empty ideas and crooked promises

​

well this time I went out
and held on to the old oak tree
I wrapped my arms around her
and she somehow wrapped hers around me

I have seen much so worse than this she said
oh thank you I said

and I felt where her rough bark 
had been worn smooth
and nuzzled in
 

​

© patty forsberg