blood trees

being from california, it is nearly impossible to believe that this happens to the trees. a cold fall evening keri and i walk before dinner. the sun begins to fall in the west, and throws light on the spot where the trees have begun to turn. we stand and watch, hands in pockets from the chill. we go home, turn up mark kozelek and cook. "if you want blood, baby you got it," sings mark. blood red trees. "blood on the streets and blood on the rocks..." soon the leaves will all be gone, and we will strain to see through the bare trees to the mountains. we will stand on that same hill, hands in gloves, looking off at the sticks.