Not sure of the title yet... it's for a granddaughter

A thick darkness tonight,
then a full moon comes up and over
the ridge, drenches the earth as if
it’s an old heart pulsating under skin.
 
The hitching post and huge boulders
near the shop hold darkness.
Something about them,
primitive.
 
A herd of deer pops out of a black tangle
of shrubs. Geese overhead turn,
keeping the arrow perfect.
Simple like in slower times.
 
So I sit with you, and I’m pleased
with your steady tender ways—
your joy over hot food from the oven,
your act of coloring inside lines.
 
Passing time at the table with you
makes me younger, less exhausted.
I lose my tiredness. All of a sudden,
I breathe lightly.

Pat

Nice poem.

I lobby for "old soul" rather than "old heart" to begin pointing to granddaughter.

If each S is hinting to granddaughter, "hitching post" may be a loaded image.  I like the simple order of "Something primitive...."

S3 needs a "girl" reference.  (just a word should do)

S4 seems like it could be an older granddaughter and the "coloring" then adds to the load.

I wonder if you like:

Passing time at the table with you
makes me younger, suddenly
less exhausted.

Good work.  Perhaps the title is her name?  Her pet name?

Todd

So many good thoughts here.  
I will look closely at it tomorrow.  Today was loaded.
I especially like naming it her pet name.  
Thank you for time, energy, suggestions.

I opted to not use Hav, her nickname, because I thought it could be mispronounced. We say it with a long a. 


For Grandgirl Haven
 
A thick darkness tonight,
then a full moon comes up and over
the ridge, drenching the earth as if
it’s an old soul pulsating under skin.
 
Something primitive about
the hitching post and boulders
near the shop.
 
A herd of deer pops out of a black tangle
of shrubs. Geese overhead turn,
keeping the arrow perfect.
Simple like in slower times.
 
So I sit with you, dear Haven.
I’m pleased with your steady tender ways—
your joy over hot food from the oven,
your act of coloring.
 
Passing time with you at the table
suddenly makes me younger,
less exhausted.

Pat

Wonderful (especially with the details known to you and any listener who hears your introduction to the poem).

I like a few trims.  The title so that "Haven" is a proper noun AND a place of rest for all parties.  I cut a word or two here and there but nothing was necessary.

Such a fine poem.

Bless you

Todd

Haven
 
A thick darkness tonight,
then a full moon comes up over
the ridge, drenching the earth as if
it’s an old soul pulsating under skin.
 
Something primitive about
the hitching post and boulders
near the shop.
 
A herd of deer pops out of a black tangle
of shrubs. Geese overhead turn,
keeping the arrow perfect.
Simple like in slower times.
 
So I sit with you, pleased-- 
your steady tender ways
your joy over hot food from the oven
your act of coloring.
 
Passing time together at the table
suddenly makes me younger,
less exhausted.

for continuing to chop.  I did not miss the changes.  Grateful.
Have a great December....
Pat