
that was the year i drowned

that was the year i drowned

these are the weeds she would have removed and i love them all the more for their potent life force, their brilliant defiance


the wind rustled the citronella leaves, weaving whispers of fragrance in our hair

repotted, repurposed, reused, reinvigorated, recovery, realization, restore

let your warmth
drift slowly across my
doorstep and straight into
my brittle heart

seeing everything traced in frost, gives one the courage to welcome the changing seasons

I will be taking a blog break for a week or so.
Be well, and I’ll see you again soon.

there are times when she’d like to close her eyes,
lay her head into folded arms,
and sleep for years and years and years

she had become wild and overgrown,
like creeping ivy,
and feral night creatures–
like neglected velvet roses
and fierce northern winds

are you protected
or held prisoner?