grateful for the sweet somethings I used to overlook as nothings
Sweet small somethings
Winter seems to be taking a gentle intermission. as pansies lift their weathered faces for some afternoon sunsoaking and coats and scarves sigh on the clothesline, while rare balmy breezes shake them free of winterdust. And I throw open windows to celebrate and marvel over the many small somethings I’d have mistaken for nothings before…
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