Yesterday was Candlemas, the turning point of winter.
When the deep thaw begins.
Propped up by a steely core not ready to loosen up, my thaw.
Years worth of reactions, leaking all over the place.
Messy kitchens, sloppy work, unfinished business.
My last baby, riding a comet’s tail is finishing his first trip round the sun.
Time to get my hands dirty and melt my aching heart.
using the write alm prompt today,
This baby, growing up and stuff. I guess this is how all mamas feel when their smallest stops being a tiny. Just following the script.