I watched Scouty playing on a trail today. It was cool and there were leaves falling. I’ll remember this.
My baby is walking. She’s a proud little thing with shaking legs. She’s walking and my heart is breaking for all the places she’ll go.
Scout was asleep next to me in our tent. I was awakened by the sound of some far away thunder. I wasn’t sure we’d survive if it poured. I crawled blind into the mud and grass and pulled a tarp over our shelter, weighted it down with firewood. Somewhere in the distance, two foxes were calling to one another and I was scared and I thought of you.
You, inside my head, how I couldn’t quite meet my husband’s eyes when the redheaded girl was finally done in. I took my bike and I rode it through a black tunnel that day. I came out on the other side and there were apples on the ground. They were fat and swollen and the branches were hanging low.
I knew a boy once who painted the beginning of the world. He’s still with me, even though he’s dead.