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Question: Where do you see yourself in ten years?

I’ve answered this question before but perhaps it was ten years ago so it’s time to reassess, realign, recalibrate as they say, those devotees of alliteration, which I’m not, the a’s just happen by accident in my desire to run away from this question because it is too much, too deep, too full of the earth and all the things that have bloomed and died and crusted over and then peeked a tiny leaf of green, reminding me there are seeds scattered in the trunk of my car from last year’s ambition, a recurring one, to grow flowers and vegetables and wear an apron and carry a wicker basket, maybe sport a red bandanna around my neck, cinched too tight with all the years, times’ layers in folds on my neck, inviting me to slip my finger between my skin and the cloth to make room for more time.

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Photo by Serena T on Unsplash