You

Just roots, just roots, just roots, so far–September to March–you were all just roots. Some days, I saw roots and calmly forged forward. Some days,

I see through your game of pretense; the game of tag that has no end. I see through you time, even when you slam minutes

Note: I wrote this in late December right before I moved into my first house! I remember when I moved back to the DC area

After the cold, it gets warm. After the dark, comes light. After the thunder, a bright clear day. After the mistake, the learning. After the

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