Safe. And found.
She was shelling peas,
apron-covered knees
spread wide to catch
each pea/each pod
I, shaky, needy
wandered near
Her ancient swollen hands
pushed back the hair
that hid my face
She set down the pan,
and, patting her knee,
said:
oh, child
come on up here
and let me have a look at you
Her voice was safe and so was I
sitting in the lap of God.
The Lap of God
by Mary Popson
Posted over on Easy For Me to Say
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