Belleville

People come for the cherry blossoms, she tells us. We’re booked through 2021. At the mention of cherry blossoms suddenly I see only fall foliage, only shades of fire and the possibility that maybe autumn isn’t death, that maybe things live because we want them to. That maybe I can look at this ink blot from another angle and paint another image inside my eyelids. Here’s my happy little accident. I wore a scent of 2017 on my skin, of tour buses and freedom, it drifted across my awareness at the strangest moments but it felt safe, comforting, steadfast.

We stood on the street corner for hours, until the air grew cold and my shoulders shivered. The Empire State went to sleep behind us, and I thought how this building has kept watch over me for so many years, unwavering, reliable, reassuring. How this building reminded me what home is. I know you don’t know all the answers.

Just rest a while. When you have found home, dare to believe it will know them for you.