Writing Spot

The Living Poetry prompt – Backyard

I spent many lone nights
swaddled in a rainbow hammock
by the crackling firepit
in my manicured backyard
under the clear stary sky
in cold deep winters

Many poems were born
from frozen fingers tapping
on a frosted screen
when the embers started to go out
in the wee hours of the night

With a final sense of satisfaction
I straightened my beanie
wrapped myself in the wool blanket
resettled in my ugg boots
hurried into the house
where everybody I loved
were all in a deep sleep