Pink Birds

White Crow

Note to a friend

Dark out, coffee gone, husband asleep, early morn.
Trying not to make a noise, ever watchful of the rising sun.
Enjoying the quiet of the early morn and the quiet dark.
Day will begin soon enough with the chores to be done,
The hours passing quickly filled with busyness. Rushing,
To finish and go to bed so we can do it all again tomorrow.
Wheels turning to keep the year in motion. Grinding, pulling up.
Then down, finally at top speed. A speeding ride through life.
Slow down, I say, savor the moment, savor the moment before it is too late.
C up and time to realize the day when the sun is up.
Learn new tricks, ugh old brain doesn't want that.

Anyway, hope all is well with you and your grind through the desert and,
Those desert people who gather, tell tales, pass the time and then move on.
Never really knowing anyone for long. Touching on light levels of friendliness.
To go deeper is to have to awaken to the needs of others. Too much work.
Are they all Republicans?
Seeing another in pain or aging is to see their own mortality....frightening.
It won't last, that offishness of uncomfortableness.
Awaken  them more and make them feel. Then leave them to their desert lives.
Laughing all the way back to the dark side of the northwest. A tough people with a tough climate.
The snow is leaving with every drop of heavy rain. The groundhog gave us a short winter don't you know.

And yes, I make up words like polar bears reading and lions curling, just for the fun of it.
The day is calling now and I must go. Have a good one there, no snow no snow.
Write with you later, enjoy your day, cuddle the dog and plan an escape.
Hugs from the dark side. C