Snowflakes are falling, accumulating, and the patio’s white, a japanese death shroud wrapped around bare branched plants. We stand staring out the window, relaxed in gas log blankets, mugs of hot cocoa in hand. Beautiful, visceral art occurring, but we’re bored, so lumbering back to den’s couch cushion suction, we forget how the angel fell, constructing excuses while miracles bucket down, dancing along the jet stream. the rarity could rip walls apart, earth toned wallpaper and plaster splintering, figuratively. …and, we just close the curtains, so apathetic toward awakening.
To rejoice in the choice that is made, regardless of its composition or shade, is the true miracle. REJOICE! (just don't spill your cocoa, it's hot. lol.) eMBeMLaHV!
Indeed, Osiris! I'll rejoice in the choice, the returns from lessons learned, and keep a blank tv... Thanks for your comments!
Hi fulmah, lovely words once again! It's easy to get down with so much apathy in the world, that's why I find myself laughing with the insanity of it all! If only poets were presidents, eh? S.
