i finally remembered what it was
to feel happy and content
instead of just "not sad"
the sun comes around more often
sticks around longer
it paints my world in colors more beautiful
than those it gives the sky because suddenly,
when my friends laugh , i can too
and i am loud again
and instead of walking, i skip
suddenly, instead of dreading the day,
i wake up to moments full of potential
and i worry less about every single thing i do
suddenly, being with people
is as invigorating as it used to be
once upon a time ago.
of course, the rain will come again
and the sun will leave with summer
and it is then, especially, that i will hurt again
but suddenly, i have hope.

i have not felt my hands
for a long, long while
the snow slaps my face
then gives a tender smile.
this seasonal depression
will linger in my lungs
long after the sun returns
to leave my hands no longer numb

Winter has tortured me for years, with each year bringing a bigger blizzard to battle. The ice cold, barren feeling drifting within me felt all too much like home.

With a touch as gentle as the sun's first kiss, and patience more plentiful than the stars painted in the clear night sky, I found myself taking shelter from the storm I'd been putting myself through in the most unexpected place. The branching frost that once took root deep inside released its icy grip upon me and in return, a soul as warm as summer filled the gaps left behind.

A friend, a home, a declarer-of-love, a lover-of-the-seasons; he taught me I didn't need to shiver every time I peaked at myself in the mirror over tortoise-rimmed glasses... he sensed the warmth I was capable of. The lengthening of nights doesn't equal a shortening of hope.

I'm no longer gripped by the trembling fear of my own self. My skies have cleared. Winter is my Summer.

Soft shapes touch a child's finger,
Memories of their sweetness linger--
Helping grandma roll the dough
In her kitchen long ago.

I like the shape your cookies take
When they spread out as they bake,
Like the changing shapes of crowds,
Melting snow or summer clouds.

Oven-hot and placed on racks,
Lined up , lying on their backs,
Coming from a single batch,
But none of them a perfect match.

Toll house cookies, soft, convex,
Each perfection, like the next:
Chocolate chips their surface grace--
Freckles on a child's face.

Pecan ball aren't perfect spheres,
But they're gentle little dears:
Bottoms flat, sides dented slightly,
With white sugar sprinkled lightly.

Sugar cookies cold days cheer,
Shaped like angles and reindeer
Glazed with frosting sweet and white,
Decked with sprinkles all delight.  

Santa's Whiskers, coconut rolled,
Long fat logs of sugared dough,
Cut in portions smooth and round,
Pecan bits, cherries abound.  

Molasses crinkles' faces lined
Like old men's--the friendly kind--
With lines like back roads on a map,
Dunked in milk before a nap.

Oatmeal cookies, shapes amorphous
Juicy raisins budge enormous,
Semi-blobs, their texture rough,
Sometimes packed with nuts and stuff.

So many cookies through our life,
Since we became husband and wife,
In their sweet aroma and taste
Years rushed by like cars in a race.

Looking at their shapes diverse
Reminds me of our love at first:
We weren't sure just where we'd go
And all we had was cookie dough.

summer quietly creaks open the back door
slips from beneath your skin records shattering
as you stare down from the attic, questioning
everything. it's gone before you can remember
what warmth even is
sadness warps
an old yellow novel you used to love
holding it close as it twists and moans
rip the best chapter out because
it belongs to you

When Winter hits I'll be wishing I was still young,
but when Summer's around I'm still biting my tongue.
We both know that the storms have always been mine,
I never claimed to be blue skies and sunshine.

Atleast the nights are almost always cold,
but they keep me warm with the beauty of the stars.
Shining wishes for all, or so I'm told,
accessories for both Jupiter and Mars.

The snow covers all with blinding white,
but in the Summer the grass could always be more green.
We both know the storms have always been mine by rite,
'cause the blue skies were never truly clean.

You know every four season,
time has never moved so fast.
They've all blended for no reason,
never disappearing but they never last.
The world turns, the moon shines,
The sun burns, Nature's designs.

When Winter hits I'll be wishing I was still young,
but when Summer's around it still seems Spring never sprung.
We both know the storms we're always made for me,
I have always been the rain and you the sea.

You know every four season,
time has never moved so fast,
freezing to death when I let the breeze in,
and the outcome never matches the forecast.
The world turns, the moon shines,
and everyone yearns, everyday for some signs.

It's the season,
Which provides reason,
For hot cocoa by an open flame.
Entangled in your arms,
Lost in the world of make-believe.

She's leaving him behind a closed door
And she keeps the key, plain, in a drawer
In her bedroom next to his Valentine's Day card.
Every now and then when she sees
His name online on her phone she feels
Electric jolts like someone's trying to jump
Start her metallic heart,
Rotted and gone cold

The car that is her body didn't start until he came
Slid into the driver's seat, without hesitation
Drove it out to the edge of a promontory
Except...the body is not a car
Not now, not anymore, maybe never was

The body is flesh and bones
When she meditates, she accepts
And lets pass his eyes, that all
at once remind her of garden
Soil and amber sunlight
Streaming through autumn's leaves.

She used to think that she'd locked
the door but she glanced at it,
tried the handle, realized
She left it ajar. She hears his voice
All around, inside, all over,
Humming in the air

He declares:
“When you finish
building your house, I will reside
in you, but I won't wait forever.”
She wants him to know that today,
She started to open up the windows,
let the sunlight in, and it felt
Yeah, looked like his good morning

His hands on her face,
His hands cradling her
Soft and delicate,
Eyes focused—autumn
first breaths of zephyr,
and him asking:
“Are you all right?”

Soft kiss stirring her awake,
New air in her lungs
Humming alive in her blood
warmth on her skin,
The answer in their parting is not
“Goodbye,” but a softly spoken,
“Talk to you soon.”

Hear here:
https://soundcloud.com/nataliejcopeland/fine-rough-first-mix*

I'm fine
  I'm fine
    My heart's on fire
      But I'm fine
No ****
  No wine
    No need for that stuff
      Cause I'm fine

The words on the radio
Don't touch me like they used to
Not a single song out there
Sounds right or rings true

I'm chill
  I'm fine
    Growing colder
      On the vine
The leaves
  They turn in time
    And I'm turning too
      Cause I'm fine

I wish I could capture a sunbeam's warmth
Before the autumn days
But just like the summer in your smile
This too will fade away

I'm fine
  Not sure what I'll do but I'm fine
    This heart beats slower now
      But it's fine, oh it's fine
I'll try
  To coastline
    Try to glow up
      Til I grow up
        And I show up
          Truly fine.