It is evening
but the skylights haven’t darkened yet —
clouds are still visible beside the cedar treetops,
moving east
My mind reaches into the boldening gloaming
where daylight is stretching
visibly longer than just last week.
I feel the lifting off of a forgotten weight,
like clarity after dizziness,
like fog condensing on my eyelids as it dissipates
There can be comfort
in the rolling out of time,
February’s fleetness,
the winds of spring,
the progress of all life’s processes,
underground, overhead,
within.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 7, 2016
