Today Pam turns 60 years old.
My second week of teaching is finished, I think it's getting slightly easier as I get in the groove of the routine. I got my first teacher paycheck Friday.
This past week I wasn't allowed to spend time with someone I wanted to spend time with. I know she's in a very dangerous situation right now and I know it's just a matter of time before something happens that cannot be undone I keep half joking half completely seriously suggesting one of the three of us is going to be killed. So I understand the need to take some time away from each other. This is such a strange situation I've never been in anything like it and I'm not sure I know of anyone who has been in anything like it...but this is my life and this is a chapter in the story.
Kossuth the path that connects us.
Mid morning sun climbing over shingled roof pitch its heat warming my skin in the openings of the crown canopy. Branches out stretched for their daily meal, The smell of sulfur filling my nostrils as I pass Mohawk the vivid contrast of peach against the brick, wrought iron black, and leafy green any moment now she'll round that red stable then slowly the topography of the uneven brick and the unlopered wildness of the low limbs will reveal her...
There
The sun behind her like a royal aura spotlighting her as if center stage of this scene in the performance of Earth. Her hair natural displayed the way her deoxyribonucleic acid intended it to be shown to the world. Her brown eyes hidden behind sunglasses. Every time I see her walking towards me I'm surprised it's me she wants to see, I am the catalyst for this stage performance then she catches sight of me and her bright smile illuminates.
That's the moment I like
The golden sun behind her
The forest leaves before her teasing me as they sway back and forth obstructing my view
The cyan sky
The brick red beneath her
And her onyx skin as deep as rich soil the kind from which all life this golden aura behind her pulls out of the ground illuminating the planet with colors stretched up all towards the sky
All of it in one moment all of it spun together so casually so incidentally it's as if this wonderful life giving planet we call home can do nothing but create beauty
I like that moment.
I want to remember these summer mornings
I want to keep them I want to preserve them somehow perhaps through this poor excuse of a written description, the only way I know how to preserve the forever fleeting existence of my speck of a life.
I want to remember before the leaves fall to the ground, before the colors turn to grey, before the snow is muddled with sludge black and brown against the trudged curbs, before the air, once feeling so pleasant on my bare skin betrays me and I rebel against it covering every inch of myself. My head once held high and proud in the heat of a summer morning, now tucked towards my coat collar hands wedged immovable within pockets. The pleasant slow walk turned harsh quick paced necessity. Winter brings in its own a beauty but it is much more subtle and it much be searched for. It is a hidden beauty but it can still be seen if given the time. Without the season of winter we couldn't truly enjoy the gratitude of revealed skin in the summer.
A girl who’s smart and funny and who, if I say something dumb for a laugh
Is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh
But who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way I could never be
A girl who reads books that no one’s assigned to her
Whose curly brown hair has a line running through it
From where she put a tie to hold it up while it was still wet
That Power - Childish Gambino
My second week of teaching is finished, I think it's getting slightly easier as I get in the groove of the routine. I got my first teacher paycheck Friday.
This past week I wasn't allowed to spend time with someone I wanted to spend time with. I know she's in a very dangerous situation right now and I know it's just a matter of time before something happens that cannot be undone I keep half joking half completely seriously suggesting one of the three of us is going to be killed. So I understand the need to take some time away from each other. This is such a strange situation I've never been in anything like it and I'm not sure I know of anyone who has been in anything like it...but this is my life and this is a chapter in the story.
Kossuth the path that connects us.
Mid morning sun climbing over shingled roof pitch its heat warming my skin in the openings of the crown canopy. Branches out stretched for their daily meal, The smell of sulfur filling my nostrils as I pass Mohawk the vivid contrast of peach against the brick, wrought iron black, and leafy green any moment now she'll round that red stable then slowly the topography of the uneven brick and the unlopered wildness of the low limbs will reveal her...
There
The sun behind her like a royal aura spotlighting her as if center stage of this scene in the performance of Earth. Her hair natural displayed the way her deoxyribonucleic acid intended it to be shown to the world. Her brown eyes hidden behind sunglasses. Every time I see her walking towards me I'm surprised it's me she wants to see, I am the catalyst for this stage performance then she catches sight of me and her bright smile illuminates.
That's the moment I like
The golden sun behind her
The forest leaves before her teasing me as they sway back and forth obstructing my view
The cyan sky
The brick red beneath her
And her onyx skin as deep as rich soil the kind from which all life this golden aura behind her pulls out of the ground illuminating the planet with colors stretched up all towards the sky
All of it in one moment all of it spun together so casually so incidentally it's as if this wonderful life giving planet we call home can do nothing but create beauty
I like that moment.
I want to remember these summer mornings
I want to keep them I want to preserve them somehow perhaps through this poor excuse of a written description, the only way I know how to preserve the forever fleeting existence of my speck of a life.
I want to remember before the leaves fall to the ground, before the colors turn to grey, before the snow is muddled with sludge black and brown against the trudged curbs, before the air, once feeling so pleasant on my bare skin betrays me and I rebel against it covering every inch of myself. My head once held high and proud in the heat of a summer morning, now tucked towards my coat collar hands wedged immovable within pockets. The pleasant slow walk turned harsh quick paced necessity. Winter brings in its own a beauty but it is much more subtle and it much be searched for. It is a hidden beauty but it can still be seen if given the time. Without the season of winter we couldn't truly enjoy the gratitude of revealed skin in the summer.
A girl who’s smart and funny and who, if I say something dumb for a laugh
Is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh
But who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way I could never be
A girl who reads books that no one’s assigned to her
Whose curly brown hair has a line running through it
From where she put a tie to hold it up while it was still wet
That Power - Childish Gambino