A Wind
a wind has blown the rain away and blown / the sky away and all the leaves away, / and the trees stand. I think i too have known / autumn too long
a wind has blown the rain away and blown / the sky away and all the leaves away, / and the trees stand. I think i too have known / autumn too long
I passed through hallways and doorways and stairwells, amazed at how these old spaces came back to me, the feeling of moving through them. I still find myself here in my dreams occasionally.
I attend graduate school, work as a nanny, and live above a bakery. This is an easy and compact answer to toss, like a Tic-Tac, at the question I too often hear: “So, what are you up to?”
We have to rail against injustice and doggedly lament evil. We have to mourn and cry out and punch the air and scream that this is not the way things are supposed to be.
But if that’s true, how long will it be before we stop riding the train of mere suspicion and arrive in the new, dim empire of total social, political, and spiritual agnosticism?
As we took turns praying, my father, mother, and brother would say a special prayer for me. Hearing them say sentimental things about me was embarrassing, but I tried to keep my eyes shut.
…yell things like “Heyyyyy Burrito!” to which we would yell “guacamole and cinnamon twist!” get up to swing a couple dance moves, then continue to eat our raisin bran as if nothing had occurred.
I’m not sure what the secret is to knowing you’re in the right place or on the right track. I’m not sure there is one. The song helps to remind me that it’s okay not to know exactly what I want yet.
I simply cannot call something finished, whether I’m re-checking a final exam for the fifth time or strategically placing a seventieth sprinkle on a Seurat-inspired Christmas cookie.
What if I told you there is a way to travel through time instantly using only items you already own? What if I told you that you probably already time travel several times a week?