The sun came in and grabbed me by the throat. It sent snow crashing from the roof, scattered turkeys under the feeder. It blinded my screens. Accosted my eyes. Made my fire disappear and icicles drool. It said to the wind, I don’t give a damn! Who are you? I’m coming through.
So am I. Little by little. I get up from the corduroy sofa where I’ve curled into myself all winter. Where I’ve laid plans, and set snares for spring. The sofa of my dreaming. I sleep on it all night, rising in the dark to feed the fire.
The sun reached a hand into my chest today and squeezed and it hurt. There was nowhere to go, nothing to be done. January thaw. Keep your head down. Keep working.