Listening to the wind pulling at branches and tapping
At my window tempting to dance like drunken dervishes
At least in my muddled mind.
Two years soon since I gave up illusion for truth at times
Hard. Cold.
At others stunningly bright, beautiful.
my days marked by fires and feathers
Sunrise and weather like this trickster breeze
That makes me believe you're there
the other side of the screen
Same as you've always been
