Friday, January 06, 2006


You are cold. grey. bleak.

You sprawl out before me in an endless string of unrealized moments. Like a pregnant gray cat waiting to be scratched, waiting to scratch back.

You look old, haggard. But you are actually very young. The illusion is so deceiving that I forget that I celebrated your arrival just a few days ago.

The upcoming months loom before me, a blank slate of uncertainty. I have to face them. Live them. But how?

But the couch and my pajamas look so much more friendly.

Perhaps I'll wait until May emerges. May is a playful kitten; and I'll be ready by then.


At 10:00, Blogger AfricaBleu said...


I hate Jan. too - it's just so LONG.

Come on, Spring.

At 12:51, Blogger diggincookin said...

Ah, November is the worst month!

Death of fall with only bleak promises. The sadness of skeletal trees stripped bare. Colorless gray with white to come.

January is the pivot point. Henceforth warmer. Soon peaks of green with explosions of rainbows thereafter.

At 14:33, Blogger Kelly said...

I am ALWAYS eager to hiberate the winter away; I actually look forward to it. Embrace the hag, Kass - her arms may be bony and bare but she'll keep the outside from encroaching. And jammies rule.

At 00:38, Anonymous lawbrat said...

Is it May yet?


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