Opposite our bay window,
a foggy drizzle sprinkles the front yard
it’s hard to see the house across the street
the cul-de-sac sits hauntingly silent and anticipates.
It’s a Wednesday, just like any other Wednesday,
but it’s different too
The pressure drums against my skin
coercing me to form grand declarations
even the squirrels stare upward into the droplets– reflective
I tap my toes on the cold wooden floor
and can’t resist the pull to weigh this one against others
to dream up new adventures for the next
It’s easy to feel the pristine page in front of me
growing,
growing,
growing.
