we wait for signs of winter’s passing; even in Florida we feel the chill. we wait for the longer light, the brighter sun, the sense of hope that comes in spring. 2.2.17 [Image Source]

i sit with the slumber of others the hum of the fan warming our home the solitude is like an interloper the quiet, like a temporary reprieve soon there will be clamor and brilliant light as my daughter resists the day; then the slow rumble as my son is unearthed from the bed covers only …

i ride for the wind, my companion gently consoling me with a soft caress; or else my adversary resisting my motion like a stern parent. i ride for the sun, warming my back with it’s steady heat or a jilted lover hiding behind the trees or heavy clouds afraid to show its face. 1.31.17

day starts heavy weighed down by bedcovers like a swaddled baby trapped in warmth. face feels the chill of the outside air and i long to stay, stay in. 1.30.17

painted like glamor queens of old we decorate our little girls and send them out to spring and flip for us all; the juxtaposition of strength and allure in one so young. 1.29.17