morning pilgrimage

today’s post comes from the rumblings and rummages of Adam’s journal. enjoy.

“And every morning I take the El to work. The Logan Square stop stinks like a stale bath towel. The train is usually late. But to be free to watch the world from a window!

Through a cold night the snow has fallen gently as the hand of a woman. She paints the bare-boned branches elegantly as eyeliner. She teases the packs of cars, blowing her tumbleweed breath across the streets where the white will not stick.

But to see on the way home the melting and the gray certainty of death, this too is lovely.”


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