Spring’s not green here, but for now, the melting will do.
And though some might consider the in-between a muddy mess, littered, mushy,
I’ll compare it to Oreo pie, confettied, since it means that green exists,
just
not
yet.
I’ve walked
and walked
in steps of fear
joy
uncertainty
prayer
shaking
strong,
and today is the 3 month mark,
June is closer than I ever thought possible,
haven’t I always lived here?
Haven’t I always lived here, or is time just not as linear as I thought?
