in the mist
a hawk cries out—
stillness
482. a short, short story
the goose & gander
in their own little world—
together forever
481. sweet
tossed about
in blustery ice and snow—
a red & white bow
(It was a blustery walk in the neighborhood. Snow, wind, close-to-zero degrees. I like being out in all kinds of weather; a heightened sense of aliveness kicks in. I was doing my best to plod along and keep from sliding when something caught my eye. I stopped and looked up and there it was—a red and white bow tied to the fence. Hmm. I remember thinking: sweet….who did this?….why?….what does it mean?)
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