spring arrives to the sound of falling pear tree blossoms and rain. skye cat tiptoes up the stairs, following me, wanting me back down to the wet earth. i took a million pictures with my broken camera and the one lens i trust, drawn this morning back to these curves and katie's red lights.
the bridge-that-really-isn't is covered with bokeh blossoms if you squint your eyes just right, and i do.
i can't see the solar eclipse, spring creeps in on invisible toes,
and tonight's supermoon is new and dark.
i have instead these blossoms and a cat's meows to show me the way forward, to bring me home.