— this is really happening

poems for piano

Metaphorically speaking, I’ve been on a long train ride home for the past 3 days. I’m passing old vacations in Italy with my parents. I’m touching the stalks of the sunflowers in our backyard on Neuman Lane. I’m crossing the acorned playground dressed as an Ewok in third grade. Receiving a teal necklace from my first boyfriend, Thoryn Burke (later revealed stolen from his older sister). I’m feeling like a kid, dressing the part, too. Tearing up the garage and finding old pictures, books, drawings. It’s epic internal soupy happy. It’s fall. Gosh, and you don’t remember, but I do: the eye patches, the eye exercises, the eye doctors, and the twelve, maybe fourteen pairs of glasses growing up. Remembering each little, delicate age. And, I can’t seem to get enough of this song; the whole journey home feels just like it. The Venice Dreamer.

Happy Halloween! Remember your costume from each year, if you can.

1 comment
  1. Erin B. says: October 31, 20077:16 pm

    Hi Monica, I love George Winston.I know that song well. How arrre ya? I read this crazy blog religiously since you told me about it like a whole week ago. NOW she tells me she has a blog. Geez. =)

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