November

It's been a few days since I've had the time and inclination to write anything. After dealing with all of Peanut's medical issues last week, I needed some time to just not think about that all the time and whenever I sit down to write, my feelings for Peanut is the first thing that is going to come spilling out.

This time change is goofing me up internally because I've been up since 6:30am CST and I haven't been up voluntarily that early in months! It's nice to have the house to myself though; it's quiet and I can sip some apple cider and curl up with a quilt and do my own thing for few hours until Peanut and Angel figure out that I'm not in the bed and come looking for me.

Given the fall weather that had blanketed us so heavily in October, I'm going to include an appropriate poem that was written 20 years ago on my first trip back to Appleton after spending my first three weeks as a student in Madison. I can name the other people mentioned in the poem, but won't do that just to keep the images vague. It's no fun if you're expecting a story but you get a movie and the cast of characters is filled in. I think this was published in the Foxcry literary magazine, but that could just be wishful thinking on my behalf. It's 20 years old, but I can see my current writing style buried within it.

Enjoy.

Going Home in Autumn

We -
All four of us -
In his brother's tan 1979 Celica
with torn upholstery
and long strips of metal that blew off when driven too fast,
Rambled back toward Home
On that burnt yellow autumn afternoon.
Those colossal elms and oaks and their dying, adorned limbs
Arched over Highway 151, County E, State Highway 26.
And two of us:
Our insulated down jackets wrapped around our heads for make-shift pillows,
tried to sleep.
While the engine rattled the car
and tires rolled over cement cracked by seasons of frost.
We opened the windows to clear out the cigarette smoke
and our hair whipped our faces.
All I could hear was the speed of the tires
cutting through the singed leaves
and leaving behind white farm houses with beaten down corn fields
exposing worked earth...
Leaving them behind in the shadows of mid-day sun,
Because we were going Home.