Tagged: February

we flock into

we flock into
february like
birds,
clinging
to a lost pattern
.
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** in the absence of The Daily Post from WordPress, here’s your daily prompt: lost

i am alive in

i am alive in
the first of february,
equally hopeful

and terrified, appealing
for someone to palm life’s coin
.
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there is magic in

there is magic in
a leap year, whether
we receive an extra
day or month. there
is latitude and
longitude to stretch
out these lengthy,
ancillary memories.
there is allowance
to indulge
, to
slip away to that
corner of our
brain that is not
averse to trying
something new,
just for today,
just this year
.
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february’s wintry

the first half of

the first half of
February buttons
up her coat, stands
by the doorway
,
and waits for the
appropriate moment
to bow out, pulling
absently on her
cinnamon gloves
.
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