Winter comes. The wild, cold waves pound against the shore
and wash away our sandcastles. The chill gets into my bones and
tarnishes my spirit, sending me toward isolation.
I slow down, hypothermic, and lose the energy to rebuild,
the effort too great, and rewards too few, aware that the magic
of the fairy tale is fleeting and might be lost.
And so I wander in circles for this little while, an attempt to
avoid hibernation that I know will fail.
But soon I will curl into my head, cocoon myself in soft blankets
and warm slippers, and let creation be my fire until spring returns.
Causes SM Johnson Supports
FAIR Wisconsin, Planned Parenthood