3rd May 2017

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    1. So far from my home, so different.
      Nights of emptiness in an air I did not recognize.
      A blank slate I did not want or ask for.
      It felt wrong.

      Slowly, I fell in love with the paler green of the North,
      the warm browns that made my eyes feel special for once,
      a rain that rarely fell but often hung in the air like a blanket filling my lungs with the closest possible description of
      Lothlorien.

      "West Coast, Best Coast"
      I learned this love from a creature with a cold touch,
      Winter's affection of all bark, more bite.
      Frosted tips that seemed eternal but ended up being
      No match to the gentle sun of the West Mountains.
      It feels right.

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