My limbs are thawing, sinews stretch and crackle. I am rising from my frozen slumber. Heart beats pulsate the air I exhale and inhale the sun. I’ve missed your embrace, old friend. I’m coming alive again. MEW Photo by Rodion Kutsaev on Unsplash

A Small Song for You

  Although I don't know What face I will show Be sure I'll give you my best Wear my colorful mask with the crest Just know all my trying Is to keep you from crying Cause Lord knows this life Can be a cruel jest MEW Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash.


Sometimes I wish I could see myself, to exceed mirror perception and, instead, experience me. Am I all I think? Do I frighten, inspire, or annoy? What color are my eyes and what story do they tell? Does my voice warm like a hearth or slice precisely, a careful audio surgery? Or is it harsh?…