The leaves are changing. The air becomes cooler as the wind begins to pick up. The days of over cast are here. The days of being overwhelmed with depression and emotions are here for now. Not another sad winter replayed over again. Change is in the air. It’s time to turn over a new leaf. The first one I pick up off the ground. No running this time. I’m going to break free from the branches that have confined me. I’m going to let the wind break me free from my solitude. Take me away to find something new, something better. I don’t want to look for it. I want to be placed there. A place that is right for me. The smells are of changing seasons and I’m about to fall away.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
ENG 362 - Workshop
On Forgetting
Calm.
Breathe.
Calm.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
Lay down in the sand.
Let the water spray over your body.
Let the wind blow your hair across your face.
Feel each grain of sand puncture your skin.
Listen to the wind.
Can you hear it?
Lose yourself in the sand.
Melt.
Fade.
Let the sand engulf your soul.
Be lost in the moment.
Forget that name, forget that face.
Lift up.
Leave your anger and sadness in the sand.
Let the tide take it away out into the ocean of tears.
Baptize your soul.
Remember your name.
Remember yourself.
ENG 362 - Workshop
A Pair of Pants
I needed to get a pair of pants out of the dryer—I could see the pants wadded up in the back of the dryer, warm and fresh smelling, ready to be worn out in the cold January morning. Every time I would come close to opening the door I could see the light turn on and then I would immediately close the door as fast as I could. The light scared me. How do I know if it ever turns off when I close the dryer door all the way? I stood in front of the dryer and then I paced back in forth. I would sometimes put my hand on the handle, think about pulling the door open, but then releasing my grip and then pacing some more. I tried to convince myself if I would crouch down behind the door when I opened it, the light would not find me. Then I would realize that my arms weren’t long enough to reach around and grab the pants. My pants were getting colder and so were my legs and I stood there in my underwear in desperate need to leave for work. The need for my pants and the obsession to avoid the light caused me to wear a skirt that day.
I needed to get a pair of pants out of the dryer—I could see the pants wadded up in the back of the dryer, warm and fresh smelling, ready to be worn out in the cold January morning. Every time I would come close to opening the door I could see the light turn on and then I would immediately close the door as fast as I could. The light scared me. How do I know if it ever turns off when I close the dryer door all the way? I stood in front of the dryer and then I paced back in forth. I would sometimes put my hand on the handle, think about pulling the door open, but then releasing my grip and then pacing some more. I tried to convince myself if I would crouch down behind the door when I opened it, the light would not find me. Then I would realize that my arms weren’t long enough to reach around and grab the pants. My pants were getting colder and so were my legs and I stood there in my underwear in desperate need to leave for work. The need for my pants and the obsession to avoid the light caused me to wear a skirt that day.
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