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2014-03-04 - 8:00 p.m.

ninety days or so.

the blue irises flickered into being like flames on a gas range - tick tick tick whoosh - but then the weather changed and froze them solid. good morning, my ice princesses.

little grey patches of snow are still lingering between the railroad ties. this might be a good time to tell you that i love you.

goodnight, my soft pink drifting sunset.

* * *

reading: someone else's manuscript.
listening to: angel olsen - dance slow decades.
working on: mortgage preapproval and such.
in the garden: i was waiting for a particular narcissus to bloom, but a different one was first to flower. funny, how that goes.

[n-1] < n < [n+1]