Fall is the between–between–two extremes.
Who knew betweens could be beautiful?
Because my periodic periods of time in the between
They are not always so wonderful:
Full of waiting . . . they are
Full of expectations . . . without a doubt
Full of anxieties. I wish they weren’t.
In a way, I could live in the betweens forever:
Being in middle school is just between being in high school,
Being in high school is just between being in college,
Being in college is just between being a professional tennis player.
And so on.
And so I will always live my life in the betweens.
But now I think it’s better to think of them as things of beauty,
Not the fall of one thing to another
But the fall of myself into every moment,
And fall? It reminds me of this every day
with its bold colors and its bright beauty.
Posted in response to the challenge Autumn '24: Writing.
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