Fall 2022:
welcome!
it's been a slow, but glorious return to writing. these past three weeks i don't think i have written a single line, but have experienced enough to write a legacy. like a concert in the meadows; a late night, with jazz and manhattans; a party, a week of rest. starless nights spent shifting my thoughts, moonlit evenings riding scooters on winding sidewalks that cut through the trees like a knife.
can you tell it's been poetic?
i digress. how have you all been? have my autumnal trees bloomed? has my goldenrod grown strong? have you hugged your friends close? i hope each and every one of you has been able to experience this beautiful divorce of seasons: a tango of colorful leaves, rushing winds; blankets on the southern lawn. hissing crickets in the cypress trees. lavender oil; jasmine tea in your favorite cup.
rimbaud: "a choir, to calm impotence and absence. a choir of glasses, of nocturnal tunes."
when you read "hall of mirrors," take that line into consideration! my inspirations were vague and endless for this collection; i hope you find that it can inspire you, perhaps, in some way.
love you all!
your little autumn singer, signing off
m