stirring the echoes

I feel something,
shimmering, stirring, little sprinkles of light on a cold heart.
It’s spring again and I’ve learned to fly anew, each sweet nothing whispered, a gust of wind under wings long thought broken.
Every day the light grows longer and the sun warmer and I thaw with every smile, every slight look and twinkle in eyes long dark.

I awake.

Keep it real kids,

❤ ry

    • Connie
    • March 8th, 2011

    Hi Ry,

    Absolutely loved the poem! Start a collection for a book. There are a lot of small press publishers that would love your writings. I read the whole blog–way to go!! I’ll
    buy your poetry book when it comes out. Poetry is much more difficult than fiction–also hurts more. You would make a great creative writing instructor, professor or whatever.

    Keep it real and run with the wind.

    Love, Gram

    • Ry
    • March 14th, 2011

    Thanks Grams 🙂
    ❤ you,

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