novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- falling addendum i do have to admit that oakland has its small share of yellow leaves. i saw them this morning as i was skirting the lake on my way to work, tiny little ovals washed up on shore, sparse and bright. but there is hardly any in-between, no build-up, no cathartic crunching or spectrum of reds, and that is what i meant before. there is no fall here. no dramatic overture. only fallen, fell; crisp air that makes you shudder, even in the sunlight. this reminds me of my great-grandmother, how she always used to send me leaves in the mail, which reminds me of ocean, and the little letter i found last week, crinkling in my mailbox. and of you, because you hinted that you might, too. 11:16 am - 11.03.03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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