Gist Me:

Gist me,

my black-capped chickadee-

The swing is empty,

when push comes to shove,

Her hands

propel me,

forward

I’ve been waiting for you

Under the shade

of heartwood

where our hearts

tosses in love

bracing myself

for harsh landing—

My heart is filthy,

Breathe out,

all the negativity

My room is dusty;

in the corners behind doors,

as always,

left open;

Look beyond your vicinity-

Therefore

Outlander awaits

Peace of mind

Straws

of love

Raw

hope

If only, delimit

those around you!

As legs dangle,

Her toes are tickled,

by cool blades of grass—

As the man

on the moon remains

blasé

Joy feels

barefooted

closer to downearthy

Petrichor

Gist me,

my black-capped chickadee

Joyous moments

are plenty!