Goof-balling with dog and the child.  Happy night-dance of movie watching and wind and early spring swashbuckling.

Happy is coming.  Happy feels it’s finger on my trigger.  Happy emerges and stretches, pushes through massive layers of dead leaves, still managing to bloom like a mild violet or boastproud daffodil.  Happy sings in vulnerability like the singer who steps off the stage and goes it alone– unaware of his facial expressions or, that his glasses are slipping down his nose.  Belting, heaving out in sincerity and certitude, vulnerable in his strength he sings for no one but his own sure expression…….

Warmth and re-emergence means I can breath again.  Means I can take a step and write this again.

Puppy snores in deep sleep next to me.  Room’s lit up with the glow of the screen and the sway of the wind through the window.  Child sleeps too, soft and secure in his rebel-pillow base…

Happy re-emerges and I can breath again.

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