New Poem: A Safe Place

Before the snow I stack brush under the lean-to

for the birds, for the squirrels, for any beast who shows

up hungry. To this my husband says I love your heart,

the way he says the stars are out or

the coffee is strong.

I spent a long time thinking of myself

as the wrong animal,

a feral thing locked outside the barn.

Shame will keep you staked if you let it.

He says I love your heart, and there is my shelter.

He built it. We step inside.

The storm does what it does.