a sweet morning run in the chilly aftermath of andrea.
winds gusty from the north. greybluepewter clouds hanging just out of reach.
damp, mist-laden air. moisture gathered on my arms and face, traveling with long, juiced-up red worms.
thumbs numb and my soles soften on the wet asphalt. my toes chill through.
birdsong, ever optimistic, fills the air, calling down the sun. chirpy hearthappy trilling.
spring growth on pine trees, dressed in new greens, awkwardly erect.
drizzled brown, they are beautiful in their surrender to another of many successful successive bloomings.
and i shake off the chill with my hands alternating between keyboard and a tall warm ceramic mug of bulletproof coffee.