Sometimes I think you have too many loves, and too many lovers to name.
Sometimes I think you have too many words, and too many demons to tame.
But sometimes I think that you are quite right,
And you and I fit the frame.
Sometimes I feel like you might hold my heart,
And cradle it like your own just the same.
And then I remember how far away you are,
And how magic doesn’t seem to remember,
On long winter nights, when the fire bites the frost,
I’ll dream of you in this dreary November.
I spent all of last week in the beautiful city of St. John’s Newfoundland. I haven’t been to “Sin Jawns” since 2006 and it was really great to see all of my friends again. I walked the downtown streets a number of times and I have the blisters to prove it. There was a lot of rain, but when the sun did shine, boy was it ever magnificent.
Between me and my friends Jody and Savannah we checked out:
Rosie the Rebel
The Newfoundland Chocolate Company
The Natural Health Store
and a bunch of box stores and the Avalon Mall
And of course, the popular touristy destinations like the Basilica, the National War Memorial, the Rooms, Commissariat House, Signal Hill, and more. I also got a special treat from my best friend Savannah. Savannah plays the drums and is taught weekly by a very popular St. John’s artist. She took me to one of her favorite spots in town to play and played “Paradise City” for me. Rather fitting, and I was so proud of her. I also met her drum teacher who was just as awesome as she described.
It was a great week. My eyes were opened to an entirely new way of life. I’m used to living in towns with a population under 10,000 so it’s nice to see how the other side lives sometimes. Turns out we’re all weird. Haha.
Til next time.
How gracefully your fingertips touched the brim of
Pulling them gently as to not disturb the hair on my forehead.
That was the gentlest you’d ever been.
The sun beat down and paraded itself in through our kitchen window
Creeping slowly across to the spot where I sat,
Shoulders against the cupboards
There was a playfulness in your eyes that I hadn’t seen in a while.
“You still like me don’t you?”
I struggled to find my sentence…“Of course.”
And with the swiftness of a fox, he jumped to his feet and stretched out his hand.
His hand stood perfectly still in the air above my anxious eyes.
I glanced outward my own hand, resting lightly on the floor.
I flipped it over, the lines were still there, the lifeline included.
I must be alive.
Counting my fingertips, I raised my hand slowly and met with the hand of this man, a stranger to me now.
I wondered, as I arose, how much time I spent sitting against the cupboard beneath the window.
My feet were hot, having been touched by the passing sun and shadows.
I followed slowly, apprehensive, the body leading me down the hallway.
I walked past framed photos of someone who looked like me, with someone who looked like him. Impossible.
He must have noticed the essence of sadness on my face.
“Don’t you remember?”
“What is there to remember?”
His confident, boyish stance turned quickly into a slump.
He looked at me as if he could see directly through me.
“I wish you would wake up.”