Life's Mistress - Bruce Cockburn

    She is passing in a warm breeze
    bars of light that cross the floor
    one smoke-gray, curled, tiny feather
    skips aside

    By her middle hang the keys
    made to open any door
    even the one that lets in the cold wind
    from outside

    She lives in a house of colour
    guarded by cats three in number
    and one great dog of gentle manner
    in among the trees

         *    *    *

    no apprehension here
    in the warm sun
    by the window sill
    i can just sit still
    and watch her go by...

    Queen of field and forest pathway
    understands the speech of stones
    she weaves peace upon her loom
    life's mistress

    (cumberland, ont. -- winter, 1969)


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