Have Life, Will Travel

Mix a little of the Eastern shore with some teardrops and the sound of a song you haven’t heard in years but remember quite well, and you might have it. This is where we’re supposed to talk to the people who mark us? Of them. I’ve got a telephone that I use sometimes. And at other times it sits in its cradle getting juice for when I need it. And I could really go for some juice right now.

Who am I talking at? What am I saying?

When the scooters fell from vacation they were weary, having been used so much–it was like work for them and all the laughing that happened when Johnny took a spill into the causeway. Beloved women housing their lips and caresses in the shade. A line of salt swept pines. The wind through them could be another kind of song.

Something borrowed. Something blue. A cupful of sugar. A headful of shoes.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s