morning drives are awesome.
funny story: I accidentally left my camera on the wrong settings. but it turned out all right. sometimes perfect pictures are boring.
grab my camera.
it had been cloudy.
then I noticed
the sun descending below clouds
a strip of sky above the mountains
we raced out to watch
driving in snow
It had fallen from the tree during the snow, and I picked it up off of the grass and took it home.
It is useless now, nothing but some twigs in the shape of a bowl.
melt and freeze and melt again
broken in the needles
I insist it’s cold
he doesn’t really listen
tromp on crusted snow
Some days, I feel as weighed down by winter as this tree.
backwards, you stand looking at nothing, avoiding my face. but you will turn soon, and you will smile.
glitter on the ground
too soft to walk on
too hard to boat
imagine you float
shovel out the path
and the snow keeps on coming
walk to nowhere, freeze
ice, water, frosting
smoke on a winter morning
water gun below
left open, exposed
become dry, brittle, freezing
waiting for water
sandwiched in water: clouds above and lake below
holding on to what I can
untouched snow is never left
alone forever. footprints crowd its surface,
but the sun also comes–an ending.
run and laugh. it is freezing, but you have
boots on and even though
the water seeps in, slowly, you can giggle
as the ice forms.
our lives often feel like they consist in the same moment, over and over again. the same struggle and the same feelings and the same pain. the same happiness and the same laughter and the same strength. and yet, zoom in and everything is different, always.
Sometimes clouds feel heavy . . .
but clouds aren’t heavy.
my attention cannot be everywhere. I choose, and sometimes I forget to choose. look.
sledding down a hill, avoiding trees and slowly coming to stop.
snow spraying in my face, falling in my eyes.
face hurting as I climb into the car
ice under everything
forward, straight, refusing to slip
my desk: keyboard, planner, paper, book
lost in a different world
forgetting to see