The Autumn Mother
The Autumn glow is on its way. Soon I’ll be wearing women’s leather jackets and Green Day sweaters and parading myself and the boy around the streets of Erie to the tune of crackling leaves and runny sludge.
I love the shine that comes over all of us in the next few months, then Indian Summer, and then November and December with their global warmth.
I feel the longing for belonging somewhere else, and I suppose I’ll need to be moving along shortly. I’ve been here for three and a half years now and still haven’t really become a part of this community. I bought a house, like a fool, and now I feel I should rid myself of that affliction. Also, I haven’t even accumulated enough friends to dole out five lousy Gmail invites. And they keep sending me more.
I’m going home tonight and ridding myself of all things unnecessary in life. A spring clean for the May Queen, if a few months late. No more Netflix. Death to credit cards. Death to all things not sprung from the Mother Gaia.
Up Next: Listen to Me Across the Happy Tide