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
curro ergo sum 
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
Thanks Grams 🙂
❤ you,
ry