i picked a flower (and left it on the table)

i don't think they are together.
they always come in separately and sit with the rest of their group.
and i wonder (maybe a bit hopefully) if there's a slight family resemblance between the two.

and i kind of felt something
when he leaned at the counter and teased me a little
while i made his peppermint hot chocolate.

but then one week later
(tuesday afternoon, like usual)
my glance finds them from across the room.

i see her thin hand lift up to rest on his opposite shoulder
in some familiar and gentle way.

and the quietly chaotic, always moving and talking boy is silent,
as his head drops to the reserved, pretty girl.

i stand behind the counter drying coffee mugs.

lots of people have dark blond hair after all (it doesn't mean they're family)

and i turn my gaze back to the front windows.
( and i wonder ///
w h y   i   e v e n   w o n d e r  )



vanished in the snow

took november off from blogging because of national novel writing month.  (i met the word count goal but is anything ever really complete? :))

there have been so many changes, both externally and internally.
thanksgiving day came and went right after staring a new job.
(so many things // so different this year)

after a few weeks rest off the road, some decisions and some stress, Christmas tour is in full swing.
eight shows in two and a half weeks. 
i love this so much.
and Christmas music.
and this time of the year in general.

on the road? it doesn't ever haunt me.  at least not in the way the boy with the blond hair asked inside the of song he sent me.
trying to be 'normal'?
that's what gets me.

waking up at the white house this morning, there was a bit of snow on the ground. 
the first snow.
it was coming down and swirling around yesterday while driving up the empty highway. but (like other things recently) i had little hope for it's lasting.
but there was a slight frozen glimmer as golden light filtered over treetops, and the black dog and i tasted the bitter bite of single digit temperatures.