The Safest Spaces
a poem dedicated to the spaces that have provided peace
The safest space (s) are but are not limited to:
in a tent with my family
vacation coziness wrapping us
in sleeping bags and birdsong
tree shadows surround us
their limbs shake gently overhead, each leaf a dancer
wood smoke lingers in the air
soft shuffles of feet outside the flap
whispered quiet restroom marching
coals stoked and campfire coffee burbles
tangled hair and dirty knees
a marshmallow fleck still stuck to the crevice of my ring finger and pinky
*
safe
in front of the pot-bellied stove of my childhood home
my dad plucking at his guitar strings
my mom setting her book down to check on the bacon crackling alongside apple pudding in the oven
my sister’s warm body coming to curl next to mine, under a tunnel of blankets, our faces peeping out to stare into the orange flames that lick the glass door
here we move slow
here we can be ourselves
*
safe
in Ryan’s arms
I still ask him, at age 38,
“won’t you come tuck me in?”
and he does
a weighted human blanket
layered in love
helping ease my transition from
busy day
to quiet night
*
reading to my children
the vast worlds expand before us,
carried by my voice
their sweet feet bundled in a blanket
I rest as their hearts turn toward mine
and we find our way
through this morning
this afternoon
this evening
guided by apostrophes, periods, questions
of all that is known
and unknown
Photo by Nima Sarram on Unsplash
This poem was inspired by Crystal Rowe, @everythingissacred, Soul Munchies on Substack.
Crystal offered an open invite for friends both near and far to come to write with her in November 2023, in a Virtual Gratitude Journaling Group, using Rupi Kar’s Writing Prompts. Thank you, Crystal, for the gift of that time + energy.



Love this!!
😍😍this is lovely, Lindsay!