Taking a Rest
Under boughs of
sharp tipped needles
the ground is soft
with spongy moss
and piles
of shedded debris
from the towering
branches above
this shelter
is my happy place
where hours
are spent lying upon
fragrant softness
looking up through
shades of green
Anywhere that is your “happy place” gets approval in my book. I love seeing you happy. I love making you happy.
I wish I could help more with this slide of depression, I wish that I could drag you out of there and hold your head above water. I hate that I’m so helpless in this. Remember that I’m here man.
Don’t hide from me
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