Tag: winter

morning reluctance

almost like night, eyes closed, outside, crusted snow protests beneath some dog's feet I admit it's possible the sun hasn't reached me yet © Sarah Whiteley


I am becoming…

I am becoming the color of fall when it stoops to November, russet when it succumbs to gray in quiet, unnoticed ways until suddenly the briar leans bare against the fence bleak, wild and forgettable © Sarah Whiteley


seems every corner these days, yellow reluctance hangs from the trees but can you maybe see the small promise in the perchance-forgetfulness of coming wintry rimes where we might biding sleep 'til wakened by warmer times © Sarah Whiteley


This damp January morning has drained the color from the sky and all it touches - everything is a shade of sidewalk. All but the unexpected pink of the sand cherry, which bursts out to laugh at the gray as I walk by. It seems … Continue reading 1.10.2015