Sitting with my breath, waiting for today
to reveal itself. Sunrise seems earlier
than usual and I’m slow to leave
the house. I want to wrap myself
in a blanket, stave off spring
and all its newness. What might
happen when I walk
out the door. Even the birds are quiet.
It’s too soon to know anything
even if my heart clamors
with possibility. Waiting keeps me
wanting more than one day
can hold. (Hold me.)
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