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.
lined the forest floor, softness,
respite from our difficult world.


Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry

3 responses to “Respite

  1. 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.

  2. Respite is forever welcome.

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