spring
the language of spring
A few weeks ago the sun was shining bright. Green grass peeked out from a midst the leftover chucks of icy snow. Mud puddles littered the driveway and the wood stove sat cold and unneeded. Then in one blustery stormy night spring was wiped out. Snow piled high, high. Puddles hardened into ice that crunched under…
of plows and seeds and brokenness
The pond water runs green and soft. Bull frogs sing refrains that blend with the crickets’ symphony and echo across the flat land. The plow dug furrows this week. Deep, dark, black earth turned skyward. Sod busted and green left to turn brown. Roots tore and dragged, beaten and broken. In the upturned dirt, tiny…
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