Alright, so I'm back from a week long vacation and what I'm trying to figure out is if it improved my creativity or put it into hibernation. In other words, did a full week of not thinking leave me with a week of stored creativity, or rusty from lack of use? I suppose I'll have to give it a few days to figure out the results of my labors, and then I may know the answer.
On our trip we travelled through Alabama and Louisiana by both train and car. I must say that many parts of those states are very beautiful, but their beauty is very much dampened by the foreclosure signs, and broken down houses which permeate the landscape in most of the small towns on our route. The nostalgia fills the air like humidity, it's almost magical and makes you feel like if you stood there and closed your eyes, wishing really hard, you could whirl backwards into the good ol' days, which coincidentally really weren't that good either. Yet, the people I met there had a sense of pride for their homes, and their towns, regardless of how much they've fallen apart, or failed to reach their true potential. That kind of loyalty takes a special person. Someone who loves life despite its pitfalls, and realizes that poverty isn't a word just used for someone who is lacking money, but someone who is lacking hope and spirit. And in those last regards, they are wealthy.
...
He sits on the porch step
Of the house that he once slept in
Strumming the opening chords
For a song with lyrics he's forgotten
But he remembers that tune
Like it was only yesterday
Like they're all still sitting beside him
Humming along
The notes pop off the strings
Floating for a few blocks and then
Disappearing, melting into the treetops
1 comment:
I really like the poem at the end of this one, especially picturing the notes flying off the strings like bubbles :)
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