We are small astronomers, and it is our last sunny day.

There is a chill creeping in, these mornings.

You have outside chores.

I sweep. I water plants. I hang the laundry out on the line. It is my method in the madness.

But I think I get it now.

(I do not want to.)

I do.

Do not test this theory against our darkness.

Keep us in the light. Make us last.

How we make it a constant amidst the ebb-and-flow.

Let the fall take us, as it does.

We can take it.

Author: Emily

i once was lost

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