Bones Full of Winter

“Winter… would be cold without warm memories.” I wholly agree with Sanaa’s words—I doubt I’d be able to survive New York winters without piles of mind-heating books, crazy socks, and indecent amounts of ginger and passion flower tea… reminding my frozen bones that spring will be back soon.

“Bones Full of Winter”

Bones full of Winter’s darkness,
sparkling in chills.
Face pilfered by frosty bites,
oned… glaciated…
beaten…

no, not beaten, never that; just
hibernating within dark pink thoughts,
sipping April Showers by the glass half full,
filling the womb fertile,
burning the heart with ice,
brewing cold yesterdays into warm tomorrows.
Cradled in January’s arms, waiting…
to Spring.

.
a wee note…
– First published in 2013.

pink-body-sock
photo by Vincent Fournier
via

I Am Tired…

…but still pushing for blooms.

My alarm woke me up at 5:00am. I took my medications and went back to bed—weeks of trying not to puke my guts out after taking my meds have helped me realize that sleeping an hour or two, after the morning doses, lowers their nauseating side effects. I got back up at 7 or so… my flesh and bones felt like a frozen lump of lead… I passed out again, and didn’t get up until noon…

I’m starting to feel rather sympathetic towards Spring. I’ve seen her trying her best to push Old Man Winter away—we’ve had a few days that kissed 70 degrees Fahrenheit, crocuses and tulips are starting to sprout, dogwoods are blooming, and the blue jay that steals my peppers has been making rounds… Spring is moving forward, even when she has to paddle through Winter’s ice.

True Spring will get here soon… then Summer’s heated kiss… But until Nature, my will (and manmade remedies) melt the ice out of my flesh and bones, I shall keep writing my-Self awake.

What have you been up to, my Wicked Luvs? How’s spring behaving in your bit of the world?

Tulip Sprout