….. And it’s white again…..

And things have slowed with the pace of the falling snow…….. gray curtain speckled white…. drawn across the city……  Seperates me…. Shields me from what lies in the white beyond….. the white periphery……

And things are always quieter when it’s white…. when it’s like…… this…… silent…… falling…. contemplative soft noise…… gently dredging…. edging… nudging us all along……

And the promise of new growth….. of rebirth…. lies sweetly beneath….. February’s first week………

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