Dear January,
You are long and bleak, you are monochromatic and suffocating.
You curl around yourself like a sleek grey cat, turned inward, oblivious and self-assured, unfazed by your chilling effect. I want to like you, to embrace you to see the good in your wintry silence, but your indifference haunts me and I am left counting the days until spring.
she writes pages and pages of words–
long convoluted sentences
pared down to a small handful of rounded letters,
strung together and
waiving in the wind
the new year can bring a feeling of starting over,
another chance to get things right
happy baking and making and gathering…
see you in the new year–
be well and warm and full of sparkly sprinkles!
there is a piece of my heart
that always and forever
leads me right back to
you
for the lonely,
the past haunts with a vengence
kicking leaves on walks
berry pies
Gene Autry
this book: Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty
young bucks eating pumpkins
gathering greens from the fields
a healing pup
balsam candles
