i remember a holiday so bright
its sparkle blinded me;
i remember the bus trips were red
but the sky was a thick wet cloth
wrung out poorly by baby hands
because it kept dripping, dripping;
i remember the cold and the winds
that were always loved and sometimes not;
i remember a coat.
i think i remember a coat.
i remember a mountain so high
and its misty vapours swirling;
i remember how night sped by
in less time than one minute
and i ever not sleepy in that unquiet room
surprised by the morning light;
i remember the breeze in my eyes
and my lips were smiling;
i remember a window.
i think it was an open window.
i remember all the malls in the world
and i so factory-marched through them;
i remember their lord-of-the-ringly feel
subterranean and blue and
and seeing ten thousand moles
scuttle along the paths in delicious chaos.
i remember a tiny house with a tiny door
that did not invite me in.
i remember a kindness.
i think it was your kindness.
seasofme140912gasp