She came and hovered in front of my face again yesterday.
This tiny and shiny angel, looking into my eyes.
I was so happy for another visit, that I did not realize the purpose.
I knew she must leave. I knew it would be soon, but for once I was in the precious moment of whirling and flashing.
This morning the drooping vines alerted me of the overnight cold.
Another unacknowledged goodby.
Like when I refused to cry at the awful news.
Trying to make things better…bearable.
Denying the coming cold…the coming loss.
Another visit from another spirit that I desperately need to stay with me.
Letting me know they will come and go.
My angels have feathers. One is blue and the other is a shiny, olive green.
FLOW











