The joys of love are but a moment long the pain of love endures the whole life long
~ Old French Love Song
I wait in the garden while you pack preferring birds and flowers to drama the sky is overcast dark wooly clouds gather the passionflower so long thirsty lifts itself higher higher longing for drops of rain
this is a leaving trip and you will go alone.
tiny gray chickadees wear rakish black caps soberly peck between the paving stones occasionally look up worried questions on their faces thunder? leaving? really?
I like the part "the dark, wolley ... the passion flower raisis ... higher ... higher. tantilyzing suggestions of what I almost think, and then think not. Thank you, kKate, for a fleeting glimpse into your world. Jaime