the dusk is a taxi to all the feelings that follow the fullest of days. an ode to the hours of light in which we dress ourselves both fancy and free. the feeling of elation when hands are dark and stained with the pores of the earth beneath us. each day to dig a little deeper, uncover a new moment, call it from dormancy, and greet it with humanity.
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today, the sun. and it feels just like they said it would. at the top of the stairs i see her standing there and she is the sky. she is the sky and she is wearing spring effortlessly today. today she’ll turn the mud into clay and provoke the hedgerows to flower. she doesn’t make excuses about where she’s been, but now she’s here. i am the supplicant gardener and she is the answer. both humbled and gracious, the second of april feels good.
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