Mark Me

I am
soon to become
an old Fey
of the woods,

an old man
of the watery way,

as I should.

If you chance to meet me
on some distant path,
mark me by my feather,
sadness, and by my
hickory staff.

I will play you a song.

I will sing you my truth.

I will open my hand
and give a gift to you –

a cold river rock,

painted “kindness.”

© CG Tenpenny, 2022.

Image generated by AI.

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