Amelia and Aven change directly from nightgowns
into swimming suits and we pack the car effortlessly.
It is the end of summer and I don't even have to think
about where towels or water bottles are. Our days
have become streamlined; garden, river, campground, lake;
by the end of August I feel so graceful
in our happy summer orbit.
In a week this all will shift into something else.
I am telling myself several different versions
of what this fall will look like. I see myself running alone
puffs of breath made white by cold mornings,
I see myself in the campus library,
my laptop and flourescent lights. I see the yellow
school bus pulling up to our driveway as I watch
through a frosty windshield as my girl climbs
the steps and disappers.
We've talked about changes
the last few days. What it will feel
like to walk into new classrooms,
meet new teachers. We talk about
to leap into the new.
I wake in the middle of the night
and feel this longing,
but I'm not sure
There is something so lovely
and heartbreaking in this time