keeping the skull

the leaves have begun their slow changing and falling to ground. the twisted trees look sleepy and calm and stoic in their motionless ways, and their creaking haunts even the sunlit skies. only eucalyptus could do such a thing. as i ride through tilden park, i stop occassionally to fill my pockets with these leaves, then bring them home and stuff them between the pages of books. sometimes, our lives give us precisely what we wish for, and other times they do not. what are these 'lives' of ours after all? friday i went to ikea looking for a cost effective solution to my window shade problem. no. no no no no no. if there are antonyms in a thesaurus somewhere for sunset, one of them should be ikea. such a strange effect that place has on me psychologically. instantly upon entering, i feel completely, hopelessly overwhelmed and i wish deeply to leave, while simultaneously feeling as though i must buy many many things. so i left empty handed, feeling as though i had seen a bad movie in the middle of the day, only to be met with the scorching light of sun.

now reading sundog. jim harrison says that the 'ultimate track any creature leaves on earth is its skull.' wow. and today, night arrives gently, like an injured bird sitting alone at the edge of a limb. resting its weary, hollow bird-bones, and keeping its skull. hold on dear bird, hold on.

Posted by jeff at October 12, 2003 06:32 PM

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