Photo by T.R. Hummer


9/6/10


S. and I were cutting dying fronds from the palm in the back yard. I felt a bolt of hot empathy for the trimmings.
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I am saying goodbye to everything. It will be a long, lingering goodbye, most likely. But I am going. It's not correct to say that my going is "beginning" now; it began before I was born: like everyone's; like everything's. It is rather a question of time, or of timing. One month ago, I passed my 60th birthday; I must now think of myself as an old man.
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A...