The apocalypse of swirling dirt that filled my eyes, my lungs, my house. Without a car, I walked to to church and back with kids for something of an outing and found the wind had whipped my tresses into unyielding knots all over my head.
Snow today.
The dregs of winter pressing into my spring, leaving a single water droplet on every unopened blossom of the trees in my back garden. Oh that winter will not press so far upon us that those blossoms that would be pears, apples, and plums, will freeze in the womb of each water droplet, leaving us a fruitless summer. My August MUST drip with pear juice, the last delicacy before I bear another child.
In the snow....and in shorts, the postman brought me a passport this morning. In ten years a passport has taken me no further than England. I get on planes and fly back and forth over the vast, dark Atlantic, perfectly content with the thought that every time my passport is stamped it is on English soil. I know there are other treasures of this planet, but I feel so.....magic-wanded to have been given England, even if I am given no other geographic gifts before I die.
So I am a woman with passport in the pocket and babe in the belly - pregnant with possibility.
It is a happy future, so long as spring can hold on to its Fahrenheit tonight.
1 comment:
what happened to out like a lamb?
it is 80 here today, lest hope it does not trick the trees!
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