Keeping Watch
I am sitting with a blank page
In front of me
Ingrid colors forth boldly,
each marker’s snap fortells
a confident set of strokes.
A celebration is coming!
To my left
Zion is delicately, deliberately inking.
A portrait emerges,
fine black blades converge
over the faint orange sketch.
My page (now less blank)
is covered with the
scratches of my holding on
just a little while longer,
keeping watch.