October 30, 2006
October 22, 2006
Passing
There are red leaves on the lawn. Autumn is so slow this year… I wore (knowing better) flip flops to the junk shop around the corner yesterday. The sky has that blue of coming chill, a washed out version of summer. I still have not pulled my winter coat out of the attic or found all of my sweaters.
Driving home from work I pass the fields in harvest, see the bent heads of the cheap Southeast Asian labor dipping and rising amongst the green. Their turbans muted shades of frivolity. There is the massive oak at work every lunch, russet on the tips fading to gold towards the trunk.
I am in love.
With a tree.
G.
Driving home from work I pass the fields in harvest, see the bent heads of the cheap Southeast Asian labor dipping and rising amongst the green. Their turbans muted shades of frivolity. There is the massive oak at work every lunch, russet on the tips fading to gold towards the trunk.
I am in love.
With a tree.
G.
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