Fall Laughing
Fragment 52
We don’t always see it. The grand in the trivial. It’s not until we look back that we realize that we mustn’t forget what we forgot to hold.
Days filled with moments of magic. After a winter, after a spring—peace, at last. What was difficult—ours, at last. And all that weighed us down, simple as that. When careful looks hit. Home. Colors the rut of day-to-day in yellow, purple, and blue. And small, fragile words lift us up to blinding summer skies. We fall. Laughing.