The hug of earth

I walk out of the courtyard this morning and see a full moon hanging above the 107 street lofts. It has been made translucent by the sunrise.

I walk past the Healy Ford lot and around the trucks that make me feel small and uncomfortable and come out from the shadows to see a heavy young man make a dash through a red light—his oversize gym shorts and  billowing blue nylon jacket make him look like a sail boat sweeping across the street, and I think how beautiful things are when ones eyes are clear and unburdened.

Walking this early Friday, with its faded morning moon and its sun bearing fall warmth and kind light upon yellowing elm leaves, I know the hug of earth.



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