Ann lies in bed, a gloom descending round her dark room. November is for baking, planning a great meal. Creating warm things. She is cold, and her head aches. Ann, don't call the doctor, don't take pills. The trees will stand by all day long and watch the house like soldiers. The wind will clear the yard. Close the curtains. If you look outside, you will see a damp rain - it will break your heart. Now, if you like, you may draw a warm bath. sink to your chin, or, make a cup of tea and stay in bed with socks. No one will mind. The clouds will roll across the sky like a warm blanket to cover your house. All day you must do small things slowly. Tomorrow, or perhaps, the day after, when you rise, you will have strength. Things will get done on time, because of your great love.
by JoAnn © 1997
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