Fragile Comfort

My head aches and my mind feels crushed
Unsettled by a burden of care.
Listless, I look into the pale blue sky
Where white clouds drift along, careless enough,
And the crinkly green leaves of the pittosporum
Growing behind the hedge
Tremble in the light movement of air.

I walk out into the crisp morning
Breathing the sea breeze.
My eyes scan the clipped beach hedge
Its green garment turning to russet brown.
Beneath, the Autumn crocuses thrust up
Light dancing heads, pleased to show
What little they have
Under the damp hedge in the cool air.

And then there is the pink geranium
Its five-fold petals like a thin nightdress
Or somehow naked, light veined, soft,
Its stamens roused and wanting
The kiss of honey-gathering bee,
Quivering as the breath of morning
Stirs its fragile form.

And then I share my words with you,
Anxious that maybe I give too little
That I am weak when you need strength.

And as you take me in your arms
Holding me tight
My tears flow onto your warm neck
Spilling my grief
Eased by your knowing heart
Comforted by your still, assuring silence
By the feel of your breast against my chest
By the touch of your thighs as we hold close
By the soft feel of your hair on my cheek.