January. Restless. Hundreds of Spring hopes. Hours…
and hours…
and hours spent
With graph paper.
A warm room.
No biting bugs.
A hot cup of tea.
Sleet hits the window.
Limbs bow under ice.
Snow soon,
And then a week below freezing.
I will take many, many walks
In my paper garden.
This article was published originally in 2019, in GreenPrints Issue #116.
