Fresh and clean and continual.
It’s a rainy morning in this mountain town.
All the green I could ever ask for starts with these little drops.
I’m going to let that foresight guide me
through the dreariest parts of this season,
when I am swaddled tightly, almost suffocated, by saturated clouds.
When less light than usual is offered
and the aperture of my soul
must open as widely as it can.