rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Further Warming

There was another springlike day of small, fluffy clouds gleaming white against pale blue sky. My windows being open, the cat enjoyed lots of sill time. Outside, a few bees visited early blossoms and the mild, buzzing air was fragrant. As evening neared I saw smoke rise from a nearby chimney. Somebody didn't get the news that winter has fled, harassed by pollinating insects, pursued by those flocks of geese I heard flying north just after sunset, sung guttural goodbyes by frogs reveling among green stalks in their starlit bogs. The early night's coolness justifies no more than a sweater, as far as I can feel. Maybe the fire starters love the winter and, reluctant to let it go, burn wood as an evocation, the way I burn words for what I love. But what I love approaches inexorably, and my litter of words will be barely noticeable in a world dazzled by the blossoms spring soon will strew in its own path. In the end, I suppose, everything I say will leave no more substance to the world than will that smoke which now, a brief sharpness scenting the slight breeze, dissipates into the gathered night.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 1 comment