Fog lifts. Dawn comes. Storms lead the way to spring.
One day, you’ll see the dust.
And it’s no small thing to be able to do the little things again.

telling stories through poetry & personal reflections
Fog lifts. Dawn comes. Storms lead the way to spring.
One day, you’ll see the dust.
And it’s no small thing to be able to do the little things again.
For those who thought life wouldn’t look like this. . .
May these words bring comfort.
It’s been a January. Don’t give up on people. Build castles. Come without pretense, without warfare.
And if we get washed away, at least we will have the remnants of castles to leave behind. . .instead of lines that leave us all behind.
I love the word tenacity. I hope it’s part of my legacy. For now, it’s in a poem and to me,
tenacity looks something like this. . .