furrow of my brow

Sun leathers my cheeks in tones tamari soaking almond

and the furrow of my brow is smoothing

The furrow of my brow is smoothing

while I'm pulling weeds and stones 

and palming soil with restorative intentions

The furrow of my brow cracks my face in rows

and rivers, terrain of molehills, tear-tracks,

crow’s feet. Fever summer heat is balm

that burns through all distresses cooling

stresses with the song of insects calling

to the dew and drinking nectar in a brew of moonbeam

The furrow of my brow is smooth in 

hums of evening, drums of dawn and noonday,

dreams of now and nods of good and plenty

--Diana Tigerlily