chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

dawning… a beginning…

Babydoll sky, fragile pinks, white lace edging, palest blue, soon absorbed into the cottony gray. Snow lingering in the clearcut slash above the neighbor’s roof, a few shaggy heaps and slushy bogs along the road. In the window I see through the window, through the scrim of reflected tree branches, the suggestion of dawn gathers along the ridge. A gull, wings barely moving, carves a furrow across the gray sky and then through the slightly coloring reflection. Another swoops in, is suddenly blown sideways directly toward me, then, with a flap, rights himself and flies on. More gulls, crows, intent on their journey north or south or dipping wing into huge circling loops, down, around, up, and then onward.

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