Our November flesh bows
to the wind, we are reflected in a darker light.
Soft resilience of bone and temperament, the
ice bears down and the blankets pile high and you
reach for me for warmth and I will give you
what is left.
All stories have to start somewhere.
An older photo from a couple of summers ago. Because it’s February and it’s gray and the wind has been relentless all week. Because we all need a little fire in February. Cheers!