Different, now then before.

The thoughts of life and living and love (and loneliness).

Time changes and nothing stays, the same.

Again.

These thoughts drift slowly down,

spiraling,

gently,

lightly or too much,

all day and nights.

Many nights.

Weaving a too heavy blanket.

Smothering, restricting, holding.

Yet so cold, and dark.

Trapped.

Inside.

Alone.

Growing, hard to remember

The warmth, gentleness, freedom. (So many degrees of freedom).

Seasons of living and dying, growth and destruction.

Thinking, almost knowing.

“And that has made all the difference.”

~Tania (2004) with inspiration from others…. like… Frost…