Cagle's laughter is
Like soft,
Thick,
Oozing

Honey.

His growl intertwines
With his unkempt beard;
His low voice resonates in my ears.

When he whispers I savor him.
When he bellows
I celebrate inside the sound and
Let it scoop me up.

I memorize his hands.
They are the products of rough
Work
With the backroads
Of Alabama carved into them.

His wisdom
Is the antidote to my instabilty.
He stills me with one word

And my fears cease and
Even if I disagree,

He is the fine stitched quilt of
Security.

I wrap up in his presence
And let his entirety devour me.

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