2nd time, again

nov. 2020

in scraping together sediment towards, a pattern of motion, a cycle, moments where the light shines through, more where the mud broadcasts, much where the cycle breathes back into us, returning the favour, pushing us back into position, sitting with ourselves, stems from long ago, whirls of tones like coming snow, and the cold dew that gathered on kitchen windows before turning to exquisite frost in an overnight lullaby.

ok. without further ado,

⤷⤷2nd time, again