Summer is here. It perfumes the wind with jasmine, rose and coriander; scents anchored by rain and garden hoses.
But my bones, my skin — their memory stronger than my own — still recall the other side to this sunny Equinox; biting cold, the scent of snowflakes on a monochrome wind, Earth slumbering.
I close my eyes to the thought and breathe in this moment. In this moment, I live.
Another (lagging) entry to the Family Poetry Project. This time, the prompt is/was the phrase “I Live.”