This evening, daisy posted an ellipsis that reminded me of something I wrote a lifetime ago. It was simple, but far more complex than the mere words.

daisy wrote simply:

time goes by so fast. winter again.

Years ago, back at the fishbowl (my college living), it seemed like things were moving too fast. Things were drifting apart, people moving on, other things perhaps losing their appeal that previously had been so strong.

At that time, I had an old ficus tree names Gordon, who became oddly therapeutic for me. In the midst of everything, I woke up early to give him a drink, and saw three leaves that had fallen. I wrote this poem, titled “Fallen Leaves: an Ode to Gordon”:

wintertime has come too soon— already, it’s november. picking up fallen leaves, no words to express my sorrow

After reading daisy’s post, it seemed appropriate.

Things move too fast. Time especially. I can hardly believe I’ve been in China for just about two years. Been with this company for even longer. In the words of the great philosopher Jerome Garcia, it’s “such a long long time to be gone, but a short time to be there.”