Looking upon now,
predictions could not have known.
March through winter storm.
poetry
Not my traditional haiku
Is this who I am?
Outside events reroute time.
Acorn roots bear much.
You have to want the sunshine to be able to feel it all the way down to the center of your bones
Resentment seeks hold.
Cursor blips blankly for cure.
MKat Reclamations 