“Writing is both mask and unveiling.”–E.B. White
There’s a lot of melancholia going ‘round…Pete’s passing…my uncle not doing so well…mom over 90 and what may be or what will be…so before I even got out of bed, this just came to me:
We used to welcome the falling of the snow.
Fred would take the kids sledding
I’d prepare the waiting cocoa
And for one stolen moment, the world was just about us.
