While I’m a summer girl at heart, nothing inspires me to write quite as much as fall.
Cooler weather, changing leaves and gray skies create ideal conditions to find sanctuary in a warmly lit coffee shop, with an acoustic playlist and an empty notebook (or blank Word document).
Here’s a few ‘coffee shop thoughts’ jotted down recently:
Wrote this piece in a vintage cafe in Old Towne Orange, sipping a Roy Rogers and watching the world pass by. I’d just finished a photo shoot, wearing a collection of vintage wedding gowns. Imagining the women who wore these vintage gowns on their wedding days the 1940s, 50s and 60s inspired me to jot down this short piece.
A WOMAN LIKE ME
Cast about the passage of time,
upon weathered brick and cobblestone streets,
I stand, loftily, wavering in nostalgia,
Like a half-remembered lover,
Caressing my cheek in a dream,
As I wonder, how time waits for no one.
And my story, is no more unique,
No more remarkable than the next-
Just a young woman, adrift, in the passage of time-
And somewhere, along that trail,
Walks a woman, like me, whom
Has dreamt of the future, of the past.
Whom has loved and lost and yearned and fought
For a world in which she might,
Find her place.
Wrote this short piece at my university, watching birds circle in the sky before an Autumn rain.
Someday, when the sky is brooding and gray,
When my tongue no longer tastes the syllables of your name-
When doves circle upon wind currents,
High in the clouds,
Thunder deafening the murmur of crying aloud-
When your ghosts leave no footprints,
Your memory simply an echo,
In my efflorescent heart-
In the ineffable spaces between
storm and sky
you and I,
There, we will find-
Wrote this piece listening to gentle acoustic, flying home from Seattle a few weeks ago… while dreaming of sitting fireside in a warm cabin in the mountains, with that one person we wouldn’t mind being snowed in with…
Capturing that feeling when you know it won’t work out between two people, but it’s enough to simply run away together, to take in the moment while it lasts. Those brief moments of our existence, however short-lived, that we carry with us in our pockets throughout our lives.
Letting It Linger
Darling, won’t you run away with me?
We’ll swim all seven seas,
Explore every country-
We won’t talk about it.
Can’t talk about it.
Rather keep moving,
Than stop and think about it.
We’ll just keep following the river,
Tracing maps with our fingers,
Darling, let it linger,
Compass heart spinning,
Finding our way back to what used to be.
Thanks for reading!
x. Natasha Overin