The antique roses in the front yard bloomed last week. They're in full flower now, some dragging the stems to the sidewalk with their weight. There are so many this spring, how still the depth of this winter makes its presence known. And in my work, one way or another every day I catch myself still digging out from those huge storms.
Home and barely functional or honestly half dead, when I see your faces leaning together, hear your voices speaking together I feel you both a part of me the same, a breaking through to light from water underground.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
