#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

We opened, yesterday,

the winter sealed windows

Waking, this morning, I listened

to my regular heart

beat from my temple pressed

into the veins of my elbow, my arm

In the meadow a nest wintered

on twigs near haggard grass, still, gold

Under this field, my roots are attaching

– to what? I can't know, I can't verify