l a s t w e e k
: sounded like :
emmylou harris, merle haggard, willie nelson, the brush of fingertips on a guitar,
the call of gulls over the whoosh of surf,
tires of the road for miles and miles,
many voices at many tables and a radio,
sirens, city, silence, dark hours.
a minor chord, a harmonica, a song for the road.
footsteps on the sidewalk in the fresh air morning.
: felt like :
wet sand filling the arches of my feet and the pull of waves at my ankles,
the wind pushing against my body,
a waxy leaf between fingertips,
a breath of fresh and new,
quiet in the midst of loud loud loud.
a lot of firsts, a lot of new, a lot of lasts.
moving on / moving forward / remembering + forgetting
(HOW RARE AND HOW STRANGE
FROM THE SONG I HEARD IN DAIRY QUEEN AROUND MIDNIGHT IN THAT TOWN
AND WHERE THAT TOWN WAS
AND THE LAST TIME I HEARD THAT SONG
AND THE CURVE OF AN OLD LIVE OAK
and just how big and huge and yet small this weird earth and life can be___)
