The sky is baby-blanket gray this morning. When I walked the puppies first thing this morning, my winter jacket finally felt too warm. The air is moist, still and soft as a kiss.
There are things that I could do today: I have articles to write, emails to answer, phone calls to return. But the heavy stillness and the silence call to me, to be equally silent, equally still. I feel heavy and empty all at once - my bones feel too heavy for my skin; when I look down I am astonished that there is not a hole in place of my belly.
I didn't think it would hurt quite so much.
There are things that I could do today: I have articles to write, emails to answer, phone calls to return. But the heavy stillness and the silence call to me, to be equally silent, equally still. I feel heavy and empty all at once - my bones feel too heavy for my skin; when I look down I am astonished that there is not a hole in place of my belly.
I didn't think it would hurt quite so much.
1 comment:
Savor the stillness, Sweet Annie. As long as you can.
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