seems fitting
spring begins here
the origin of life
metaphor
I once suggested she have a good cry
she said “I’m afraid if I start
I’ll never be able to stop”
little fires
sometimes I’m quick to snuff it out
sometimes I let it burn
but there’s always that ash
sticking to the soles of my shoes
the gritty tracks
follow me
for days
sacred space
calm before the storm
the stillness is palpable
as a snowstorm approaches
I feel the same excitement
as when I was young
