gusts of wind

I was feeling low last night. I had to see her face (in a photo) and clutch her blankie and cradle her ashes, not to my chest, but to my abdomen, where I last felt her alive and where she should still be. I slept like that all night.

I woke at 5am to an arctic blast. Somehow, the gale winds had gotten through the sliding window, and blown the inside shutters open, right over my sleeping head. I don’t even know how that was possible.

I love winter. The colder the better. I want more cold, more ice, more snow. I want to live in the Arctic. It feels clean, and knife-edge sharp on my skin. I never want it to be spring again, never want to see flowers bloom or feel warm sun. Spring is over, spring is dead. I want winter forever.

Author: Mother of All Things

Mother by fostering, adoption, and marriage... wife to my best friend... Bay area critical care nurse... travel in my blood, reading in my bones, clean food on my mind!

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