…when you feel the bone structure of the landscape — the loneliness of it; the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.”

— Andrew Wyeth

Too soon this bloom 

broke through the fallow 

ground, the beckoning sun 

teasing an early spring,

soaking the soil with warmth, 

but winter will have its full season,

and this little bud will not endure 

the coming frost; I sometimes 

feel that same desire, to hasten 

spring, but winter has its purpose,

settling us into our thoughts—

our winter prayers seem

deeper, time suspended

in a long gray day, our souls

have time to ruminate, read

over poignant passages,

contemplate our own story.

—C.L. Fisher, January 2022

Unless otherwise indicated, all writings and images are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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