Wednesday, October 13, 2010

The first morning

Woke up at 5 am and watched the sun rise for the first day in my life without her.

The first morning in 90 years without a fern.

Multi-grain bagels and mugs of coffee that I still find hard to stomach. Usually it is tea for breakfast.

Boston in the morning; gossiping girls to my left and an old man on a cell phone to my right.

Home is green mountains, home is across the lake, home is how many folding chairs you can fit into a hospital room.

I'm in New England, but not the New England I am from. This is a different New England: faster, louder, cruder, bigger.

I live here now, drive here, sleep here, walk here, fit in here, but I still hold on to the sweet, kind, and good.

And here it is warm inside, autumn-cold outside.

Scarecrows with child smiles erected in a cemetery for Halloween.

Giant green and orange pumpkins in row along the side of the highway.

It really is a beautiful day to be alive.

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