Autumn light. Central Park, New York City
On this day last year, someone who I was close with in my early 20s died and I am still trying to make sense of such a tragic loss. I don’t think I ever will. I made a a lengthy post about Jen and my memories of her (with videos of her amazing performances) here last year:
A few days later, I wrote this poem and posted it with this photo I am posting right now. It was raw and it’s the only thing I can think of posting today that sums up what I am (still) feeling:
It’s in the way the sunlight streams through the last vestiges of autumn: as golden as the leaves that hold onto their branches.
It’s in the way the earth bares itself under this fanfare: as vulnerable as new lover’s heartbeats buried under layers of clothing.
Winter’s prelude starts slowly: a distant refrain that works its way through the earth chilled in anticipation.
We slow-dance on this mortal coil to the adagio of life twisting and turning with the whims of the winds that scatter our spirit to the ends of the earth.
It’s all we can do.
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