I heard the sound before I saw him.
The distant cry of a solitary crow
soaring in cold currents.
“Here I am, over here”, he seemed to say.
“I see you”, I whispered in the wind.
Listening
All posts by spanishwoods
Days
Every story has its day,
every day – an end.
Puppy Nap
Afternoon naps were meant to be shared.
Beyond
The other day someone asked me how old my children are,
I answered 17 and nearly 15.
“You’re almost done,” he remarked.
“I’ll never be done,” I answered.
Later, when I thought about this conversation the truth
struck me in a fierce way. I will never, ever be done.
I will always be their mama to infinity and beyond.
Sleeping Snowflakes
Where do the snowflakes go
when the wind dies down
and the days warm up?
Sleep well little snowflakes.
Pull
Tie a rope around this soul,
squeeze the slack and pull.
Snow Tree
Reaching and resilient,
you stand your ground
while carrying a cold weight
and bearing a heavy burden.
Promises
Under the heavy snows of winter,
sleeps the sweet promise of spring.
Adrift
Around the bend,
across the oceans,
adrift in my midnight dreams–
Where are you?
Taste of Winter
I walked in the snow with the pup at my side.
Running my hand across the gate impulsively,
I licked the snow on my knitted mitten–
surprised to recognize the distinctive
yarny taste of winter.
spanishwoods 