Coming Home Blues
The Muse Letter No. 65
There are some leaves on the freshly cut grass already signaling the end of this summer, the end of August. It’s been a while since I walked this path with my dog Filou by my side. A month can be a very long time when you’ve been gone and wandering about.
The sunlight slightly tilted now forcing you to change perspective approaching the end of this year bending time again into a calmer pace like a closing song easing us out into the night. You know it’s time to go but why not stretch your hand one more time into the air, capturing everything, swaying in motion.
I send my friend a dramatic voice note along the lines of: I hate being back!