Two Julys
Saturday, July 31st, 2010My windows are open, tonight. A breeze moving through. The sky deepening from the color of dust. A whisper of cicadas. Red wine in a glass. July has been dim — for two years, now. Often, the time (and the changes) seem to have happened to someone else. I stop, puzzled at how I have come to this place. Like I’ve lost my spot in a novel I was reading and nothing makes sense anymore. There is no real remedy for it. And time keeps evaporating. Moments that were occurring, are now memories. The dreams of butterflies. Two Julys — and I’m lost in the woods.
Tomorrow is August.