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2003-09-15 Weepy willow and residue lungs and a voicemail: i don't feel very well. And now riding my bike down the dirt tractor trail to the farm stand for a paper. The bushes wriggle as I drive past them with animals, only hoping they're squirrels. And it feels good. Just to pause long enough to breathe deeply. The earth is starting to smell of ripe fall. Only a plan: maybe a potato fresh french fry stand that has vinegar and no ketchup. Maybe a swing shift bookkeeper. Or a bookseller, again. Perhaps I could pick apples this fall. |