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Posts tagged ‘Nostalgia’

something more still in its movement

8/21/92

There’s something about a summer evening.  It’s late August, Friday, 6pm.  I climb the face of this day as it fades from my grasping fingers.  With steady, easy strides it passes by me like a long-legged boy heading home.  This day too, like so many days before it, heads home to my memory.

How can I not be carried away with it? – back to a time before work, before responsibility.  I’m young again and spending time as children do.  Those were the years when summer lasted for as long as the school year, or so it seemed.  Every day was a free day.

But Friday was still special.

∞ ∞ ∞

5/3/93

My life seems to me like a movement of water, sometimes a tiny creek and sometimes this huge river.  Always moving toward the sea, toward something much larger, much more still in its movement.

This river slows and quickens on its own.  Often it feels like it’s stopped and then I realize that I’ve traveled ten miles further down the line than I thought.  Sometimes I move and can’t judge my own speed.

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Dust

.

I gaze upon the room,
and lifetimes spent here
shift across my vision.

I cross the creaking
floorboards, hay-covered,
and open spaces gape up
at me like some wide
and toothless grin.

I grope along walls
all newsprint papered,
fingers peeling back
a layer of years,
and the yellowed records
of days gone by
leave 
their handprints on me.

I breathe in the dust
of so many lives past,
and their memories,
floating 
in the air around me,
swirl ‘round and then,
catching in some slanted ray,
shine one still moment
and flutter silent
to the ground.

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this used to be my town

When I was growing up, it wasn’t entirely unusual for my parents to randomly tell us how things had changed in our town.  We are a fairly settled family, with both of my parents having done their growing up in Fredericksburg or one of the surrounding counties.  We mostly all still live here, including aunts, uncles and cousins on both sides.  Every now and then we raise a wanderer, but it’s unusual.   So when my parents say the town has grown, they know firsthand what they’re talking about.

continue reading…

lightening bug in a jar

Lightning Bug in a jar,
and I run to catch more of the same
on cooling grasses of a summer’s evening,
the Earth’s carpet beneath my feet.

Lightning Bug in a jar,
and I watch my own private light show
flying up and down, straight and squiggly,
growing brighter and brighter on the darkening day.

Lightning Bug in a jar,
and I check the air holes one more time…

then I lay my head back,
eyes fluttery with sleep…

holding on to the remnants of the day,
and envisioning all her promises…

should the morning keep them.

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Item of interest:

Lightening bugs or fireflies? by Todd Pack

Dance of the Fireflies (The Brown Road Chronicles)

Twanglish Lesson: Lightnin’ Bug (real-southern.com)

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