The jack-o-lantern from Halloween is still sitting on our front stoop, its grin going slowly from goofy to gruesome as it gets moldy.  The little black and white kitten that our downstairs neighbors adopted has run away.  And everywhere great quantities of soggy leaves: imprinting their outline on the  windshield of my car, stopping up the street drains, hiding the sidewalk under their slick colorful husks.

My view is expanding.  I can see more sky. 

Some things that you think are going to rip your heart out, don't.  You realize you were moving towards them all along, and it's OK.  You won't be diminished without your foiliage.  You will just be more bare, your bones and branches visible.  You will be the pencil line on the paper that lies beneath the paint.

Comments

[Phil]

Nice.

[Kimberly]

Lovely imagery, Janeen.

When I looked out my window this morning, I saw that last night's wind and rain had blown most of the remaining leaves off those two huge horse chestnuts across the street, revealing the large nest at the top of the one closer to your place. I would try to make something metaphorical and poetic out of that observation, but I haven't finished my coffee yet.

[cc]

I was glad that Kat pointed me to this post today. I feel like it's time to expand my view too, and find my bare self.

[Debra]

Beautiful! So glad I found your site! I use my 360 yayoo site primarily as a place for storing wonderful bits and pieces. Hope you don't mind, but I have added your last paragraph to my site. (Fully credited, of course!) Thanks! Debra