I wake. Make some coffee.
Walk myself out of the air conditioned cocoon I have slept in.
Walk my way across pavers. Next to the pool where the water is contained. Constrained. There is no flow.
I sit by the edge of the pavers.
Next to the rails. As close as the convenience and the luxury of this home will allow me to the earth. Across the railings I see mother.
The earth still moist from last night’s rain. The grass on the other side, still a lawn. Millions of little blades cut down to size, made to stand at attention, for the pleasure of those that will not spare it even a glance.
On my side of the metal barrier, sitting on the pavers, my feet itch to sink into the earth. To feel the grass against my soles. My soul.
I sip my coffee. And yearn for earth.
-Fia Iannuzzelli
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