I am fortunate enough to have many places where my heart feels at home. Wyoming is one of them, but the first spring that I was there, I was deep into the initial stages of healing from the deaths of my father, my mother, and my sweet girl Abbie, all within fourteen months of one another. The emergence of spring has always been a time when I felt more drawn to my mom and dad and to my original home in Tennessee, so when I found myself wandering the cold, snow-covered mountains and high desert plains of Wyoming as I knew Tennessee was coming to life, I felt disconnected. This poem comes from those days.
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Unless otherwise noted, all material--written, photographic, and artistic--is the original work of Estora Adams. All rights reserved.