coffee and toast in the morning
mountain snow on a razor-crisp, cold day
pine needles in the rain
old books being opened against a warm, buttery light
puppies biting with tiny razor teeth and sweet milky breath
pink peonies and roses in a jam jar
icing on the trees–
the sparkle of a spring frosting
rain fell in long sheets against the windows,
the sound of quacking ducks traveled on the rising mist,
hot tea sat cooling in a china cup,
while the dog slept on tattered blankets–
another day unraveled from the worn fabric of time
Taking some time away for a week or so. Be safe and warm, see you soon.
“Snowflakes are not made for solitude; each, with outflung arms, tangles and meshes with its neighbor; over time, they compress, become ice. But ice is mutable, even in the deepest cold. Inside a glacier, pressure and affinity will melt ice at temperatures far below freezing, so that two pieces, in contact with each other, melt and refreeze as one.”
from the book, Under a Pole Star by Stef Penney
she recognizes the shadows
i still remember all the things i’d like to forget
and often forget all the things i need to remember
