This was written in December of 2016, in the middle of an epic bout of depression. As you might imagine, I couldn’t quite get my
For Peter, who is gravely ill in ICU with viral meningitis. I am holding you in the light, my old friend. politics sunk our adult
And it was winter… wasn’t it? The frost of my breath, the icicles hanging off the eaves, it must have been winter… right? The snow covering the branches, the hoar frost
The holiday season always leaves me with an empty feeling. My heart longs for something more. I miss a long table filled with family. A
When I was young, December rolled in on a blanket of fog. Thick, wet and gray. It clung to the ground. If it let go,
the man-made chemicals that surge through my blood bind firmly to neurotransmitters & smooth rough edges erase a little more of me each day joy
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