When I moved into this place, Spring was peeking through the darkest time.
The days were still short. The wait to get here, too long.
At least I was alone.
Poor cat was more scared than I was.
Winter’s last embrace, a transfer of power to what I can only hope will be a better time.
I waited patiently for holidays to end,
and for my 40th year around the sun,
but there I was, standing still. Alone.
A freedom I haven’t felt in years.