entry #4

september. i can smell autumn’s approach in the burnt coffee and feel her presence in the chill coastal winds

hi friends,

—and welcome, autumnal equinox. today the sun rises directly in the east and sets directly in the west, gifting us balance, harmony, and endless possibilities.

this week’s entry celebrates the season of rebirth that we so graciously dance into this september 22, 2022.

summer, you were so so sweet. indulgent amounts of bagels eaten, masses of strangers now friends, supple stories of worlds i knew not of before, plethora of passions to turn skills, tasty treats and bitter drinks in abundance, profuse swaying drunkenly to music i can not remember (or choose not to), copious kisses with those i love and those i don’t, plenty of first times, not enough lasts. i cannot thank you with words alone.

fall—bring me the birth of a new age. cradle me in your leaves as they descend to the chilled ground, a passerby ready to hear the crunch under their rain boots. wrap me in reds and browns and oranges and show me how they were once green. cover my freezing feet in wool socks that slide across the vinyl on my way for another shameless coffee. remind me of warmth when the windows send chills down my spine at the touch. show me how to love on the darkest days.

i hope that fall brings to you what you affirm and what you allow.

i hope that fall brings love, for i can only give it mine if it does.

love, laney

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september

the cool kiss of fall’s gentle descent

on the creaking balcony i spend

reminiscing clement summer days

aching fingers rush to capture

august before it is forgotten

in the swell of autumn winds

the desert willow undresses

returns to the ever giving earth 

and dances under the ensnaring halo

of the sympathetic libra moon

to understand her fully

would defeat her purpose

and fulfill our desires

an out of tune guitar

a kitten coos softly

the neighbors console the cries

of a newborn baby

we welcome fall the way

we want to

the way we can

the way we have to 

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(photo: on film. simrat’s silhouette stands in the door frame of a bedroom that leads to the light shining in through the windows behind her. 2 to be exact, highlighted by the matching bedroom door swung behind the woman—consisting of grilles that make out squared panels. a chandelier decorates the ceiling, positioned above her head, directly between the windows. a green reading chair dressed with a beige throw pillow sits in the haziness behind the bedroom door windows. the date on the photo says 2-1-89. the date on the photo is a liar.)

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