still got my coat on.
And my scarf.
The lamp in the living room.
The street lights.
Does the lower east side ever
There are times when I have left my house and walked deliberately into the woods nearby (scene of two body-dumps following murders). My goal has been to find a spot where the trees shield me from sound and light, and where I can look up and see stars. If I look long enough, I could swear that they have moved. Then I notice that a meteor passes, or a satellite, or a plane, and I think even the universe is never on less than tickover, let alone the human world.
Poem much appreciated, thank you.
I love this. These tiny moments are so intimate, like a close conversation with a sibling in a dark vacant dining room. But they must be captured just right, and you have.
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