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Whitethorn Doorway 

— for Eric and Victoria Shafer and Family

I was in the right place
and then I was even more
in the right place.
Between two oceanic storms
flooding roads, battering umbrellas
of those few beyond walls,
this day bloomed daffodilic
in early springtime sun.

Between work and more work
a woodswalk summoned
beyond the warm and open
studio with its tea and music.

I stopped and knocked
at this onetime logger's cabin
now wrought woodwork
love-labored over years
whose rooms beckon
one to other as stanzas
sing a poem meant to be.
An early farewell to friendly hosts,
tomorrow being fast
departure in forecast rainfury.

Warm berry scones in the sanctuary home
awaited grandkids. Enough to go around,
another gift in another enclave,
the hearth extended to the stranger
no longer stranger, the flavor
even more wholesome
essence of homestead
to a traveler
far from home.

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Zev Levinson

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