Blustery night
It’s stormin’ out there again, rattling against the windows and pouring sheets of cold grey rain.
I wonder if it’s snowing in the icy northern Maine woods where I grew up?
I feel so waterlogged. Did we really see the sun only a few days ago, or was it all smoke and mirrors? I think I’m going to float away. Maybe I’ll drift on down the coast ’til I find a sunny beach to lounge upon, let the sun squeeze the water out of my bones.