Another week of online class, another week close to shorts season being over. The nights are cold enough for flannel and wool socks; the afternoons retain enough summer for shorts and sunbathing.
I started this post over a week ago.
Almost all the leaves have fallen. We have had class in person for almost a full week now. It's shocking how swift seasons shift.
Here's a poem that sums up some of my thoughts lately, in case you missed it on my Instagram story:
the good life you know
might not be the good life you have.
i remember
(a phrase i overuse in poetry)
i remember
in the trailer
we didn't have much,
but always enough
for my parents and their friends
to have fondue and play uno
at night
and i
thought, "this is the good life,
the one i'm supposed to chase."
but that belonged to them
and even then
just for a season.
that's the good life i knew,
as opposed to the one i have,
neither meant to last
more than a season.
