poem by Ethel Mortenson Davis
We walked Michigan’s shore
against gale winds,
blue-green water
churning up white foam
and throwing large rocks
at our feet
until a stand of cedars
offered warmth and stillness
from the wind.
Leaf-litter
lined the forest floor, softness,
respite from our difficult world.
fourwindowspress 
Ethel, again so delicately beautiful as all your poems are. This one is especially poignant. We all need that respite of the soft leaves on the forest floor. I love this.
Ethel – I’m completely with Betty on this. 😊
Respite is forever welcome.