standing small and proud they shout or even whisper, here! now! and the very compass of life takes notice.
as we march through a million sunny days, i long for a blanket of gray, above and below, to quiet the remaining darkness and illuminate the air, to slow the days that are packed too full for a single season. i long for the train to pause, but i watch desperately from the window as the world sails by in grandeur, ever pushing toward an endless post-holiday winter.