the fog rolls in soft and comforting.

tendrils of mist whisper, “this is okay. 

you are safe, protected. you do not need 

to venture out of my embrace. that time 

will come, but not just yet. so, curl up 

on cushion soft and wait for me to leave. 

take the gift i offer now–of rest. 

~~~~

©Heather Pound 2022