just yesterday i had to shake my head and make sense of the light glowing under the bare tree. but it’s dusk.
the gingko tree was lime green when i arrived two weeks ago. i had barely blinked or understood what i was looking at before it turned yellow. then the leaves were like the petals of a sunflower burst onto the ground. the tree’s skeleton shone in the shocking brightness from below.
with each passing day, the trees are all undressing, revealing their shapes and what lives behind them. the wind’s heavy exhales rattle their brittle branches. i think it’s appropriate and lovely, these melancholy echoes and impressions, under this graying sky and chilling currents.
and now, in and near the woods lie spirits just as bright as the fallen leaves of the gingko tree.
