April Forth Again

Three a.m. is not my favorite time to be up.  The world is at its heaviest, coming reluctantly around to the idea of tomorrow, clinging stubbornly to the work yesterday left undone.  But by 4 a.m., the darkness is ready to let go.  The stillness grows buoyant, long before the first bird tries the air with singing.  We are counting down to daylight now – which, it must be said, comes with its own perils.

This will take both of us, honey.  We know that is true, because we came here together in the first place.  I’m not sure I know how to help – but I am here.  Even now, the curled buds are taking shape, concentrating their energy on the work they will do when April comes again.

All my love. B.

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