miscellaneous items

there’s a hint of moisture that blows in with the wind through my window. the trees are still bare and the neighbourhood is old but elegant, a captured part of time in the comfortable grip of the nineteen hundreds with orange bricks and green porches, balconies washed in white –

– but the past storm and its lingering smell of rain and the promise of a satisfying summer, after being dragged viciously behind february’s dark clouds and high snow banks for months, is enough for the time being.

(though it’s fleeting at best
and the sky is still covered gray)

even as I’m surrounded by dirty dishes and expensive texts and vitamins.