all the gold i need
is what pours through
the windows in the morning:
enough to bathe in.
when the threads of my life have all pulled
loose, my children will not be able to collect
them all. some may be kept in the family
tapestry, but most will flutter away, the stuff
of robin nests and dreamcatchers, beauty unplanned.
i give it freely.
Small moments of joy are what carry me through winter.
As part of my “Save February Campaign,” I’m writing two poetic fragments each day. Just a fun interlude to try and give a pick up to these typically dreary 28 days.
What are fragments? All that is explained here.