Mornings the early cloud layer dims and cools everything on the block except the neighbors’ jacaranda tree and its carpet of petals, which give back the half light in electric violet.
But there was no cloud layer this morning, and Albany Hill’s eucalyptus dome was the first thing to catch the dawn full face. Because I had a rolling suitcase with me it looked like the forest hills in Korea, which is to say, in that light, like a Joseon painting touched up in red and green.
Nothing can’t be a Joseon painting in this old panoramic theater of the world. I’m alive and going to Dayton.