On Freedom and the Blossom
The snow here has finally let go in the sun. A few days get warm enough to remind us of Spring, a coming time, though the ground still crunches with frost underfoot. The sniffles and the water puddles in the drive have kept us cooped in exhausted routines, in the smells of sick winter.
The unopened windows bend in the shape of old house, and so do I.
Some days I want to run out of here with my arms open to the sky. I want to ride in a convertible car with a beautiful scarf holding back my hair, riding behind me on the wind.
… continue reading over at (in)courage.