I am not sure of this day.
\nThe wind stammers
\nand the air is tense,
\nthe light moody and gray.
\nIt is the equinox,
\nand spring has been slow to come.
\nStepping out the door
\nI feel the coolness
\nwash anxiety away.<\/p>\n
The world feels huge and open,
\nand I want to join
\nits mischievous games.
\nFind the caches of sugar,
\nblood, and stars
\nstolen from the heavens.
\nAnd for me, being old,
\npull me together,
\nenroll me in its kindergarten,
\nto have a place where I belong,
\nand can draw pictures with crayons,
\nsold by the dozen,
\nfrom the store of life.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am not sure of this day. The wind stammers and the air is tense, the light moody and gray. It is the equinox, and…<\/p>\n