Curbside Sanctuary

My getaway spot is close to home,
an old, familiar curb,
made of faded stone.

It sits in a parking lot, shaded by the trees,
weather hot or cold,
always welcoming me.

Finding seclusion,
away from work and life,
I sit, lay, or crouch,
finding the space to write.

Words poetic
or sometimes just plain,
literary therapy,
no need to explain.

Chirping birds always around,
clouds punctuating blue skies,
a time to relax and recuperate,
bliss for this overburdened mind.

While kids are at school,
grown-ups at work or indoors,
there’s nobody to bother me,
an escape from the chores
of work and life and admin that’ll never cease,
I come here to take a break,
give my soul a treat.

I lay on the hard ground,
a boon for this aching back,
stretching my spine and neck,
cutting this body some slack.

Resting in sun or shade,
lawnmowers and home repairs the soundtrack,
white noise of the highway,
the perfect lullaby for a power nap.

Though cats sometimes visit,
I prefer to keep them at bay,
wanting no energies to enter my field,
on this precious getaway.

And though these sojourns
last minutes that are few,
I welcome them each day,
a necessary brew
for peace of mind and heart,
soul resting at ease,
precious moments I await daily,
as cool as a breeze.

Take lessons from these words,
dear reader behind your screen,
and find a spot of your own,
to replicate this dream.

For, as busy as you are,
the mind needs such rest,
make it a daily practice
to release some of the stress.

And when you venture
away from your happy place,
may you re-enter your life
with calm, collected grace.

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