Sting

the sun rose this morning
turned the blue shadows to lilac
and painted the winter as spring
for a moment
before we all felt the cold again
no longer able to trick ourselves warm.

We grew toward the rising sun
pointed our faces skyward
waiting for what it would give us
wondering how long we had
before it would be dark again.

Mid-morning sun

It's so hard,

the beginning,

where everything and nothing feels real

and my mouth struggles 

to hold in the words I am terrified to say

because how can I know I mean them

If I've never known what they mean?

It's too soon to understand it all, sweetheart.

Trust the little you know.