It reminds me of being desperately in love with a very tall man. It reminds me of the liberating sensation of losing track of time after giving birth to a baby. It reminds me of all my daughter's birthdays, of Halloween, and of being in my kitchen, looking outside the window, convinced that everyone was happier than I. It reminds me of my need to be loved, but mostly of my need to be seen. Fall reminds me of whales on Cape Cod and of winter's approach, and of all the times I walked down the street in a coat and boots, knowing there was something better, but believing there was nothing more.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Fall
It reminds me of being desperately in love with a very tall man. It reminds me of the liberating sensation of losing track of time after giving birth to a baby. It reminds me of all my daughter's birthdays, of Halloween, and of being in my kitchen, looking outside the window, convinced that everyone was happier than I. It reminds me of my need to be loved, but mostly of my need to be seen. Fall reminds me of whales on Cape Cod and of winter's approach, and of all the times I walked down the street in a coat and boots, knowing there was something better, but believing there was nothing more.
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3 comments:
Having a baby just when the leaves are turning is magical.
What a wonderful writing. I just love it.
Your writing moves me to tears this morning. That's a good thing!
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