Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
And I say it's all right
~The Beatles
The weatherman is threatening snow
again. We've been running at below
freezing for a while now and simply
awaiting that ominous drift of white.
Not quite sure I'll make it this time.
It is Winter, after all; bits and pieces
of the s-word are to be expected. In
fact, I can live with that . . . until it
gets so slushy, frozen and dangerous.
Somewhere 'twixt and 'tween this
long lasting white x-mas and the
plague, 'tis best to stay inside. But,
oh how I long to go outside!
I do thank the gods for fire, sitting
side by side with my lover, watching
the birds at the feeder. It may even
be the best way I can deal with the
snow. It's a bit magical watching it
come down, collect and cover the
old.
Still, SADS dishes out that sense
of foreboding, sorrow, fear . . . and
although it may all be psychological,
those wretched feelings are alive and
well.
begging i make it
pray save me from the white god
sense of foreboding
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