The World According to Poetry #1

Advice
By Stephanie Miller © 2019 

Sitting at the solid kitchen table

Warm cups cooling

She with soft words

Soothes my limping heart

Binds up wounds

That heart deep won’t heal

Or haven’t healed

Without care

Her cleansing words

Come fresh

Sometimes sting

But always followed

With a tender kiss

And a clean bandage

Tender love

That a friend only gives

When I’ve finally tired of dressing my own wounds