Everyone returns. Lately I cannot stay awake enough, the coffee eats itself to bits, I missed the blood moon and blamed the weather. Turns out I missed the rain too. No, it's true. I cannot keep my mind from clouding up with knots, vitamins, pine needles, and futurisms. A tough word, futurisms. I don't mind. Nothing makes me more sure of time than the solemn close of the year for this is just for now. The sound: an open window in the living room, water running, another person, a plane overhead, and then, The Planets, by Holst, everyone trying again for a feeling. Oh how the day feels slow waiting for you, waiting for cold air. Yes, I missed the cold air.
End-of-Month | webzine and blog
Reflections on the end… of the month.
End-of-Month | webzine and blog 