The Healer

She murmurs softly
wipes your arms and face with
a cool damp washcloth

She will glaze your parched lips
with oil, hold warm lemon
tea for you to sip

She’ll comb out knots
as you rest on the pillow
thread her needle with your hair,
carefully mending invisible holes
in your delicate fabric

Version 2

Invisible
Invisible

About elainereardon

Poet, writer, gardener, herbalist, pottery, painting—bumping into magic, peeking around new corners.
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