9 am, the half moon at the tip of yellow leaves among white clouds in the blue, blue sky. I doubted my eyes and looked at it over and over again.
9:20 am, I can’t see it anymore, the clouds get fluffier, maybe behind or maybe the other side of the earth.
What ails me?
Is there a reason behind the direction we are moving in life? Does choice matter? Am I a coward who always runs away when things get uncomfortable?
What ails me?
I know the exact desperation he had at that time. I often think how he holds up, how he survives… I might have been suffocated in his shoe. I’m a selfish little shit hiding across the ocean.
Drink a cup of hot ginger tea. It will warm you up. She says, I nod.
Your feet are always cold. He says. I know, I say.
What is the cure for the soul that wonders, wanders, goes astray. Take her home, close up the wound, I will lay your head on the soft pillow and wrap you in a warm blanket. Then, the hurt starts kicking and the restless soul stomps the front door again and gets lost in the dark. Into the middle of the night… howl, get low, and sleep. The wind blows over the body that gets cold and stiff. The blood gets sticky and won’t flow. Shut up, let her sleep. The colorless leaves fell over her making a little dump on the ground. The night sky… with the thick clouds.
No star, no moon.
9 am. A white dog and a woman walk on the path.
The dog looks up and glances the tip of the tall tree. There it is. Over the top of the yellow leaves… the white half moon falls into her eyes. It is okay, it is all good. She thinks. The dead leaves wail under her feet… singing the song of the last night, the winter… the sleep.
<October 31st, 2018>