#may2025

[starsprites]

[throughelliottslens]

Scenery on the way to Michigan from Virginia. May 2025.

[spondeesoliloquy]

June 30

there’s something strange. i’ve got no choice left but to go on watching children grow and end up hoping that they might respect me when they’re done. i can say what the point is when it comes and when it turns i only know it’s what is is and i am what is left.

[spondeesoliloquy]

May 31

the sharpness is a wonder, and the vastness, and the way it looks like nothing dreamed of, only told, as if by chance and half forgotten, faint conceived, nothing meant to meet my eyes. Now it’s here and i’m astounded, my weary soul wrung out anew.

[spondeesoliloquy]

May 30

this place is strange with history i do not know to know. it is the axe that has forgotten, but the valley open wide—it is the memory of center, the forgetting of the edge. the world still comes to lay before her feet, she seems to say. the pigeons trot like stallions, heads up high.

[spondeesoliloquy]

May 29

it’s funny, what’s allowed to keep reaching for the sky. to be open to the sun and peaks and trees— turn the centuries back for industry and you maybe find it here, but more likely catch it burning into coals. What dreams open for the mountains? What lakes too full to reach the sky? is there a city that’s too silent to be called that anymore?

[spondeesoliloquy]

May 28

the storm is rolling in and overhead like it’s the lid and we’re the bubbling pot beneath it, simmering to soup. there’s so much yet to come and so much action to be taken, here where life runs thick and sweet and fluttering like music.

[spondeesoliloquy]

May 27

the shape of yesterday is winding paths and silhouettes of tanks and curling spines of models standing in for shining stars, echoed in the metal of the smallest arching bridge and the way the river flows around the bend.