Things That Happen With Frequency

I keep thinking about circuity. The circle of life. The round Earth. Round-a-bout.

The day after the night I met B, we walked to the river and sat in the dead November grass. We played the word association game. I say a word and you say the first word that pops in to your head and then I do it again in response and on and on.

The Mississippi still runs by our window, swollen now. The sun still sets, splashing a variety of colors about the trees and water and sky. The dead grass is now in a ceramic trough on the window sill.

Winter in Memphis is a half-Midwestern winter. It isn't quite southern and isn't quite Midwestern. Right now, everything iced over from the weekend is melting. Shards of ice fall from trees and roofs.

If I were to go to Texas tomorrow what would I do? Eat Mexican food. Drive to Canyon Lake and sit on a rock in the sun. Take my breath away with the cold water.