Posts
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It Is Still Summer
It is still summer. Not fall.
Call me stubborn, but I refuse to forget. I choose to remember.
I remember riding the train, speeding past hills that glowed yellow from the sun.
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Teenager
Maybe being a
teenager is just a con
stant state of panic.
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Loves
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on knowing people whose first language is not this one
speaking to people with honey-thick & beautiful accents brings a whole new meaning to hanging on your every word
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sleepaway #2
birdsong woke us at five a.m., the washed-out dawn
altogether too bright. wake-up bugle wasn't til eight, time spent
rolling over and over listening to the screen doors slam.
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sleepaway #1
it rained the night of our arrival -
big, whooshing gasps of whitewashed rain & thunder that
shook heavy against the darkening skies. dinner went long.
we only sang louder, deafening echoes beneath the storm as
