there is a day
when the road neither
comes nor goes, and the way
is not a way but a place.
We have been packing boxes and emptying walls and shelves the last several days. Life is changing for all of us. Like the old roots and plants we cleared from our garden beds the other evening, we are also pulling roots of another kind, stripping spaces that have provided so much sustenance these last seven years. Now, standing in this space, on this grass grown thick with stories and life, I feel I don’t belong any longer, as if it knew all along it was time to say goodbye.
In the distance I watch the sun collapse beneath night one last time. The sky, like our future, is blurry with light and color. And it’s good.