What comes back. What we let back in. The long slow work of re-entering our own lives.

Return

A spring orbit. Something is loosening. This week we turn toward what is coming back, and what we are finally ready to let come back.

Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,

hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees 

Early Spring

Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.

The Thaw

Name one thing you survived that no one saw.

My mother is my light, but in the dark of the night i can not stand her.
The persone she becomes the drinking, the drugs i wish i had her guts just to shout, i wish i could scream "mom stop you scarring me" 
She is trying she is still not clean but the nights have become less often.
She may not notice my despair but i fear one night i will lose her.
I can not talk, scream, cry because if she or anyone notices the nights, its our final goodbye.