Blue-gray morning and sun-obscuring clouds is my place
Place of home and creation
A home where words are birthed and where my body lives
Location of being
I make my place here by walking barefoot on the backyard dirt
By feeling the crunch of autumn leaves I wait months to remove
from around my home so the animals and ground critters can bask in them
as they desire
Placemaking on this land is to keep the peace between the canine and feline
I live my life with
To spend quiet moments observing and whistling to the native birds that daily
occupy the old oak trees standing strong all around me
Much less a poem, more of an observation of my place of home in this time. After attending a writing workshop this past weekend, the following prompt was offered, “What does place and placemaking mean to you?”. This is a glimpse into what my place has become for me during a worldwide pandemic. – Georgina Marie
Karma Compass 