it might as well be spring
thirty-four degrees and windy tonight - on april seventeenth.
something about this winter won't give up.
maybe it heard my longing,
back in december,
long before its departure was due.
this month began with a once-in-a-lifetime roadtrip with my mother.
we traveled south -
as far as this country would let us -
to louisiana and the mouth of the
mississippi giving way to the gulf.
we watched deanna get married.
pacifiers and coloring books in the closet long gone.
we visited graceland, and it proved to be named appropriately.
i watched my mother's eyes fill with
wonder and tears and hope and excitement and love and sadness and nostalgia and joy.
she called it her "unending birthday" --
i will never be more grateful for a trip.
so now, its spring into summer - if the wind will give way.
feeling happy
and proud
and comfortable
in this house and heart and life.
on the horizon: music for the moon, and a new form to fill this skin.
details coming soon.
goodnight, sweet page, my late night companion.
~ caroline
something about this winter won't give up.
maybe it heard my longing,
back in december,
long before its departure was due.
this month began with a once-in-a-lifetime roadtrip with my mother.
we traveled south -
as far as this country would let us -
to louisiana and the mouth of the
mississippi giving way to the gulf.
we watched deanna get married.
pacifiers and coloring books in the closet long gone.
we visited graceland, and it proved to be named appropriately.
i watched my mother's eyes fill with
wonder and tears and hope and excitement and love and sadness and nostalgia and joy.
she called it her "unending birthday" --
i will never be more grateful for a trip.
so now, its spring into summer - if the wind will give way.
feeling happy
and proud
and comfortable
in this house and heart and life.
on the horizon: music for the moon, and a new form to fill this skin.
details coming soon.
goodnight, sweet page, my late night companion.
~ caroline