here this weekend. i'm in a rather lulled creative state. the spring is waking and the sun is shining in a wonderful blue sky
water is all around us in many wonderful forms and i can feel the trees quiet sigh as they wake from a heavy slumber
and they are groggy as they've been shifted and they're all confused and a bit twisted, shaken and bent
for all the degrees below freezing each and every sensory bud on cracked-bare- branches in deepcold winter blowing spent
while with heavy eyes, the struggle's to stay sober, just let go and flow, through road-ice turned to river, down the grates and drains all wishing wells i leave for lent, another winter season's over
...