The winds blow cooler now. They are lighter, and carry the scent of change. September, month of the fall equinox. September, back to school.
Neither student nor teacher, my displacement is bittersweet. As a parent, back-to-school supplies are expensive. Pens, pencils, folders, rulers, markers, binders, and notebooks, blank with crisp pages, waiting to be written upon.
A new school year, a new beginning. The children are nervous and excited. I hold the supply list, hope stained with black ink, the paper in my hands is tired and worn.
I woke up this morning thinking Rope around my neck. Pressure from all sides. Do more. Be more. What?
All around me is deadly lightness – sweet, seductive, devastating lightness. And there are my dreams, spiraling and spinning, floating as falling leaves, bound to fall.