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“I have started to spend my Fridays playing tennis with a boy from my class, and he said we would only do it as long as the weather permitted. I have started looking forward to Fridays. It is getting colder everyday, this is the worst part of living in New England: how quickly the seasons change. But what a joy it is to have something, anything, just for a little while. What a privilege it is to hold something so precious, so small, so unspoken, and to wince when you have to let go. What a treat to have so much life grace these fingertips, to love so much that I now know such loss. What a curse to have it all move so quickly, to have it be out of reach so fast.” — Belle Townsend
I have started to spend my Fridays
playing tennis with a boy from my class,
and he said we would only do it as long as the weather permitted.
I have started looking forward to Fridays.
It is getting colder everyday,
this is the worst part of living in New England:
how quickly the seasons change.
But what a joy it is to have something,
anything,
just for a little while.
What a privilege it is to hold something so precious,
so small,
so unspoken,
and to wince when you have to let go.
What a treat to have so much life
grace these fingertips,
to love so much
that I now know such loss.
What a curse
to have it all move so quickly,
to have it be
out of reach
so fast.