Textling #104

Spring has arrived, with caveat. The blackbird in my garden jubilates; a rose bush throws pale yellow blossoms in the air; scents need greeting, breath wants blessing, I will, I do – but…

So bright outside. I love the light. Greedy for unadulterated vibrancy I don a cotton jumper chive stalk green, with trousers dyed to out-shine poppy fields – for a medical appointment, then, to make the most: in bed – yet…

First, grief whips sentience like a spinning top; now, calming, drags my hodgepodge toy heart on a blasted string. Everything reminds of Mag. Don’t let me forget.


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