Last night - windows open - wild windy night, with big moon and trees whispering and blowing, not as cold as expected - rather warm, seductive, available. Slept badly - though wakefulness on summer nights like these may be the best thing that could happen. It does something to you. Hearing hoot owl to the south. Hearing cicadas during the day - season beginning to round the corner. Hair is nearly black or white. Where'd the brown go? Not pretty anymore, if ever was - but "interesting" as a wise one, a college friend described herself fifteen years ago, way ahead of me. Have always looked best in hoods.
Friday, August 7, 2009
On the Slab
Last night - windows open - wild windy night, with big moon and trees whispering and blowing, not as cold as expected - rather warm, seductive, available. Slept badly - though wakefulness on summer nights like these may be the best thing that could happen. It does something to you. Hearing hoot owl to the south. Hearing cicadas during the day - season beginning to round the corner. Hair is nearly black or white. Where'd the brown go? Not pretty anymore, if ever was - but "interesting" as a wise one, a college friend described herself fifteen years ago, way ahead of me. Have always looked best in hoods.
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