Though you may
bury us,
we rise.
From ashes and mud,
blood and bone,
we remake ourselves
from the sand
and the stone
that covered us,
smothered us.
Though we are
gone,
our spirits are
strong.
We climb,
we reach
our withered fingers
into the sky,
and sing the song
no man can
silence.
Though few may
hear,
we will sing
for those listening.
Okay, I know Halloween is over, and I’m totally ready to move on. I’m already thinking about Thanksgiving dinner, and wondering how soon is too soon to put up Christmas decorations. (This weekend’s probably too soon, right?) But first, I just had to share this:
Graham and I have spent thirteen (THIRTEEN!) Halloweens together, and this is the first year we’ve ever carved a pumpkin together. Why? I have no idea why. It just wasn’t something we ever got around to.
I think it’s safe to say we’ll make it a tradition from now on.
This is Graham and I, dressed as each other for a Halloween party back in 2017. I have no idea how I fit all of my hair under that wig. And yes, I am wearing Graham’s actual clothes. (And also yes, I do still wear pajamas a vast majority of the time. No shame here.)
My only regret is that we didn’t get MORE photos.
A Virginia Writer's Diary 