Early Signs of Spring

Yesterday, it was still winter.
The bare and empty branches
Still quivered in the bitterness.

Today, something is different.
Outside, a cacophony of
Tree frogs and song birds.

But it’s music to my ears.

Although my ears are still
Cloaked in winter,
My soul, not fully thawed.

What is it that wakes them?
A stronger gravitational pull?
The closeness of the sun?

Is my spring device broken,
Still in a deep freeze,
Gripped in winter's icy touch?

I inhale the fresh grass and wet earth,
Let the yellows of the forsythia,
And the whites of the crocuses play with my irises.

The warm sun soothes
But does not yet penetrate
This glacial soul.

Living Life With S.A.D. - Entry Three - Hope

Take me with you.
Fly me away from here
to warmer places on the shore.

We can look for periwinkles,
white spindles,
and lions paw.


It can be so grand,
just you and me
in the sand, sun and sea.

The sun can't be too far away
For I heard birds singing today
in some nearby tree,
building a nest for his sweetie.

He called,
"Pur-dee, Pur-dee, Pur-dee,"
from the top of some barren Sycamore.

With calls of flattery to his mate
it reminded me that spring
won't be too, too late.

You and me,
Well, we don't even have to talk.
Just take me with you
to the sand, sun, and sea.

Let's dine on oysters
and wear their pearls
and when the sun makes it way back to here
I will return. I shall return.

I had two houses to see today for my freelance writing job today. And although it's been raining all day and it is quite grey and dreary, I heard birds singing in a nearby tree. And it in fact did sound like he was saying pretty, pretty, pretty. It made me smile.

There is no rhyme or reason to living with S.A.D. Some days are good. Some are bad. You just take it as it comes. And I find on the days when I have to get out of the house, when I have no choice, those days I am better.

But still, I cannot wait for spring. I miss the warm sun on my shoulders.

Entry Two; Living Life with S.A.D.

The water rushed in through windows and under door jams.

I must get to higher ground, she thought.

She climbed onto chairs, counters, tables but still the water rose.

Seeing no possible alternative she succumbed to the rising waters. At first the cold stole her breath and made her lips draw a thin, straight line. Quickly it rose to her thighs, waste, chest, forcing her to suck in her stomach so as not to touch her skin to her cold, damp clothes. The cold made it difficult to breathe. She gasped like a fish upon dry land and decided to fight. But it was too late.

Her dressed spilled out like liquid fabric around her--floating, billowing. She waded through the force of the water searching for higher ground. She found the stairs and once on dry risers she took them two at a time. She ran to her bedroom where she always felt safe before but the water swirled in anyway. It found her and continued to rise.

There was no relief from the water. None at all. Her bed. He bookshelves. The top of her desk. The water rose to meet her no matter how high she climbed, no matter how hard she wanted to fight, the water fought back harder. Finally, she had no choice but to tread. Her arms and legs circled until they could no longer function, aching from the strain.

At last she gave up and became still. Her arms and legs. Her chest and feet. All still. The stillness was heavy and so she sank. She sank to the soggy carpet that used to be the floor of her bedroom. She sank down the stairs that she used to trot down to breakfast in the glorious morning sunlight. She sank to the wooden floor of the kitchen where she cooked many meals for her family.

Although strange, there was no denying how peaceful it was. Quiet. Life moved in graceful, liquid slow-motion. She knew she couldn't hold her breath for too much longer and she knew there was no higher ground to swim to any longer. So she did the only thing she could do. She took in one last, long, watery glance of it all--her home, her hands, arms, feet, legs. Her life. Her. And then all that was left to do was to take in one large gulp of water.

And it was done.

Living Life With S.A.D. Entry Two