December 28, 2012
It’s not even gone, and I’m already nostalgic.
2012 will be abandoned like an old Sicilian house. Cobwebs of memory will trail over bleached walls. Doubts will creep in. Ghosts will whisper. A new generation will carve initials into decaying walls they don’t understand.
Farewell sorbet-pink days. Farewell sunlit skies. Farewell sweet grasses.
Must you push us out so soon, 2012? Can’t we linger in your embrace a little longer?
What awaits us through those dusty green doors?