Blowing in the New Year

Wind

Like wind, sometimes we are blown into the direction of sorrow-

loss perhaps,

or sickness.

But a new year and a new wind,

perhaps a shade of pink.

Return to me

my lover

usher me into the sunlight

and the brush

Let my story come from here--

from this place of living.







Rodney Smith, Rosie Hardy

Stay tuned for more posts this year...
xoxox