When you think of the place,
the place apart
think of Nova Scotia,
of Maud Lewis
painting
red and yellow tulips,
butterflies
and little black kittens
on scallop shells
in the dry stagnant empty recess of winter.
And this with two hands so crippled
that one was required to rest on the other for support –
overlapping as if in prayer.
And this, her offering,
with a smile that said,
Here.
Here is a part of my lonely place.
