I think many of us are one thing on the outside, and something entirely different in our minds. For instance, my body isn’t capable of things it once was. Not in the same way. I used to run up mountains, but I haven’t had the time or physical capacity to do that lately. As a little girl, I remember riding in the back of my parents’ car and imagining I was flying alongside, over the fields, through the mountains. I still feel like I’m flying when I close my eyes, or doing acrobatics worthy of a Marvel movie. This poem was born of those thoughts that might not exist on…

Snowy Thoughts My window frames a soft painting In shades of white and grey and brown Tree bows weighed down By the cold, fluffy presence of water Water that will melt and flow When Spring finally sneaks in Weeks from now, to claim Her place on the wheel of time But she slumbers now, beneath The blanket of quiet that comes In Winter’s white rest The lake sleepy beneath its ice Clouds cloak the sky, a lazy Ceiling of floating vapor Crystalized and released To decorate the waiting world Beneath the earth-warmed ground Roots and seeds and creatures await Biding their time like thoughts Seeking the perfect season to grow…