The garden flower didn’t pay attention to its own ragged edges but stood tall, proud and unusually beautiful.
My head is humming. Drumming. I am a weed in the wind. Pummeled and blown about, Thoughts of spreading, flying to another….where? And rooting there.
I wait for the inevitable. One breath and then another. Beat of heart. Thump then thump. The sun rises and morning raised finds evening once
Close the door its cold in here! There. Now its closed. Is it warm now? It may take a while for those degrees to rise
Where the light is Between the night and dawn, the sound of waking birds calls out and then responds across the view. Not alone. But…