seventh month

there are fires blooming across our island tonight

I watch them, find myself mesmerized by the way they are tilted into the wind, as are the incense sticks bent over in reception of presences from years gone by. I watched them with an engaged detachment; I do not attach a sense of loss to this scene.

The smoke briefly conjures an image of my grandfather.

And then it, too, is gone.

A few months ago, I felt like I had found remnants of my grandfather in the wholeness of a stranger. I wonder where that man is now.


Haven’t written/ posted anything here in ages so I figured I’d share something I wrote awhile back. I’ve been filled with plenty of thoughts but most of them are thoughts that will stay safely within the confines of my journal so I am sorry to anyone who checks this space, I will likely be silent for awhile. Also, I complete my major exams in less than three months from now so I will see you all then ~