College life is… hard. Busy. Fun. Crazy. Lots of work.
I thought it was going to be like this:
And it’s more like this:
Okay, it’s actually been a lot of fun. But mostly I’m just busy all the time.
Anyways, here’s another poem I wrote for my Creative Writing Class. I hope you enjoy.
The world smells of dead leaves; the air’s ripe for campfires –
It’s a beautiful decay. So then why are you
wearing shorts when it’s 65 degrees today?
I’d rather stay warm in gray boots, crunching through leaves.
Mornings of pale sun, each breath is a breeze of icy blue wind
Which turns to white fog as I exhale, and then –
the wind misses summer’s heat,
so it steals mine, right from under my jacket.
And steals leaves from high trees; I watch as they float
Where they tumble along on the sidewalk
as I walk to class, as if swept along in invisible rivers of glass.
The trees catch flame; they’re never the same two years in a row,
From bright summer green to autumn yellow,
then yellow to scarlet, and red to brown
as they fall to the ground.
And then one morning they’re gone.
under a layer of frosty white winter.
I’m quite proud of it.
Anyways, now my class has shifted from Poetry to Fiction. Next week I have to turn in a short story, and I’m slightly terrified.
I mean, sure, I can write a novel in a month. But write a short story in a week? AHHHH.
*Epicly plugs in coffee pot.*
Anyways, my lovely people, I hope your week is going well, and that you’re having success planning for NaNo if you’re doing it. See you later!