This poem was first published in Issue 14 (2007) of Ancient Paths literary magazine.
Blessings by Taylor Graham
Last night the horses stood huddled under the great black oak, their breath steaming, each nostril a damp hibiscus opening in the dark. Now through the window, I see that same oak shivering black-trunked in the not-quite dawn.
And now, the sun comes shimmering through the branches. Even the stoutest, oldest tree flings wide its light- struck leaves, its outstretched golden hands in all directions scattering blessings.
How could this house hold us?