Leaves creaking dry.The sound of autumnunder my steps. Fiery hues--red, yellow, green--sway in the wind.The color of autumnalong the road. The remnant of summer heat can't warmthe cool touch of autumn.Bare arms shudder. Last October, same spot, same weather, but a younger me.The mood of autumnwon't quit my mind.
I shouldn't read this book, "We Wanted to Be Writers: Life, Love, and Literature at the Iowa Writers' Workshop" by Eric Olsen. I knew I shouldn't but I still did. A lot of things I did in my life, I only did for conformity and convention and survival, which take up huge amount of time … Continue reading Finished With A Sigh