Winter whistles from afar,her melancholy melody beginning,along before she is reborn.The trees are trying to hold on a little longer,swaying in the breeze to the song of their demise,in denial,but happy,and so, they are left to their doomed dance. I am waiting,to be reborn, or rescued.I’m never sure which.One begets the other,and I become another,…

The town is barely awake.Stretching her arms and sharing a lackadaisical smile,the sun shrugs,wondering what the day will bring.

I have done my time,beholden to my bars,tripping over time’s trap.The next day is nestled in the horizon,silently staring with a shimmering slip of a smile.She sees me coming,and runs, again and again,like we are playing a game.