I breathe in this morning air, inside this house. From the outside, this house is pale yellow and dwells among the last few leaves of autumn. Lavished with gold and orange and occasionally a deep scarlet, this little house sits here with pale yellow walls holding it in place. Inside this house, three small dogs sit beside me on a large red leather sofa. I speak into my phone to record these thoughts at this moment—8:48 a.m. I’m 71. I feel soft. This skin holds me together, inside some bones are breaking down from overuse. Too much firewood for the … Continue reading From One Coast to the Other