.a melody of drips. . .
.
.
.
as the january sun warms our snowy little world. . . I venture out. . .
as the january sun warms our snowy little world. . . I venture out. . .
.
hearing summer's windchimes now slowed -- singing a colder song. . . the world is almost quiet. . .
.
.
but for the melody of drips. . . as our icicles outside the bedroom window, once strong and thick like the limbs of our apple tree, now slim, fragile fingers. . .
.
.but for the melody of drips. . . as our icicles outside the bedroom window, once strong and thick like the limbs of our apple tree, now slim, fragile fingers. . .
.
.
the sun, now winter's maestro. . . conducting her song: a tune stormy. . .strong. . .forte. . . now pianissimo. . . gentle. . . whispering of spring. . .
.
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