Mine

Mine

By

Lisa A.Williams

You cannot

  take what is mine-

 cloth I have woven

  from fragments

of a lifetime,

weaved

in hopes

it would shield me

from the blows

of arctic winds.

I learned the cold

would penetrate,

 and I would feel

the icy  bone bitter,

 stillness

of  winter-

The timeless trek

my heavy feet

traveled

in the age old desire

that I could feel

warmth

in someone’s understanding.