sunny saturday. the nights have cooled. i put the winter blanket on the bed.
dug into my italian stamps and new martha stewart red labels. rustled through my old maps.
this evening i stood out back and listened for small planes. craned my neck up towards the darkening sky and watched planes with flickering lights stitching a diagonal line over moss cottage. i always imagine myself up there. looking down on the hills and houses and tiny streets. flying towards the open ocean and quiet northern coast. watching the starlights blink on. one after another.
that’s me. always hatching escape plans. dreaming of far away places. even while i’m content at home. on a saturday in mid october.