(no subject)
the weatherman said fifty degrees so i left the house in the thinnest sweater i own. and i think it really might be spring because i can see the pupils in my eyes clearly again. all over my neighborhood the old couples are taking walks slowly with their hands together and i'm only listening to the sweetest music i own anymore, the kind that breaks my heart. the kind of music you know could only have been made in the midwest with the rolling fields. have i ever told you about my neighbors? he is the tallest, skinniest old man i have ever seen and he used to be a farmer. he goes out to get the mail in his green fishermans sweater and waves at me every time he sees me. he and his wife sit in the house all day and i imagine she bakes really good pies. i have lived next door to them for three years and i still don't know their names. but i would like to hold hands with you, i think.