31 December 2013


Enclosed in darkness
we are today.
Covered by a quilt
of grey.
Thick drops fall heavily,
rushing rivers
forming in streets, yards,
and alleys.
Perfectly maintaining a sweet
little cozy
corner for my heart
to abide,
drenched in thankfulness
deep inside

My piano needs to be dusted. My wood floors, too. The drizzle falling outside leaves me plenty of room inside to make an extra cup of coffee with a dash of ground cinnamon on top as vegetables roast in the oven.

Recovering from holiday. That's what is going on here. Notions of chores go right out the window because that is what I did before holiday, and I am not ready to enter back into the realm of real-life with chores. I want to drink coffee and lounge with new books on my lap, with time to cook, think, and listen to some good music. Maybe I need a holiday to get over the holiday. Wait - - tomorrow is a holiday. A new year begins.

Give me the chance to think and it will come pouring out onto these blank sheets. In the form of words filling a handful of pages just this afternoon. Then, I start thinking about a big holiday that involves traveling to a far place. Until that plan coalesces, dreams of it, like snowflakes, will dance about in my head.

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