thaw

the glint

of the cold,

it blinds me.

*

in its glare

i lose all sight.

*

yet

underneath

a sliver of moon,

hope drips down

and the steady sound

holds me, tight.

*

how quickly

are my thoughts

buried, set aside

… by what is seen

… by what has been

until they are

nearly forgotten.

*

still

the dirt,

grounded by it’s very nature,

remembers.

‘thaw’ taken from 6:15-17 of job.

inspired by my friend j’s new venture: green knitting, teaching and literature all in one.

silence

so i have been bursting …pop…

…pop… with wanting to write

of my patterns in the upcoming petite purls green issue.

to not,  i have written nothing for days.

and tomorrow,

the issue goes live.

finally you can see the fantastic photos that nicole took

of ‘stature’ and ‘how precious’.

tomorrow.

for tonight it is raining.

the kind that closes roads and fills up cellars.

my neighbor up the road

had firemen at her house pumping water out and shutting down the furnace.

my neighbor down the road has to park her car at the end of her driveway

and actually row in a rowboat to get to her house.

patterns and photos seem pretty small

by comparison, no?

but

‘the sun’ll come out tomorrow

betcha bottom dollar that tomorrow they’ll be sun’

(can’t you just hear her singing along as you read?)

*

‘silence’ taken from 94:17 of the psalms.