running like home movies
reverberate color slide shows
the associated event memory may be vacant
but the feelings remain analogous
I see:
a bewildered old man in a web lawn chair sitting on steaming sand where his beach house used to be a yellow formica table with beveled bright chrome around the edges i'm kicking the table from a wooden high chair - trying to touch the Wheaties box myself crumbling as I pull my small daughter from the back seat of a car to carry her into a funeral home but she changes her mind and i put her back into the car. my 5 year old niece building a goopy sandcastle on foggy Crystal Beach, New Year's Day Wayne and I swinging on the new red swing set at sunrise drive surrounded by vibrant purple irises, a fire barrel with stars and moons cut into the sides and the red rock gravel in the drive. myself running down the boardwalk in Virginia Beach wearing a green and blue itsy bitsy bikini, to chase down the canvas cover that had blown off of my father's metal sculptures. the grocery list written for Thanksgiving dinner last year - french bread, onions, celery, mushrooms, scallions, flowers, asparagus, turkey, butter, pecans, etc.... Dave holding my hand on top of his as we turned the key in the lock of our new home for the first time - before he gallantly picks me up into his proud arms and carries me over the threshold. the bottom of every trash can in the Louvre museum as my bronchial pneumonia hacking cough echoes through each surreal gallery i drag my sick ass through each of the hallowed halls the ginormous neighbor girl, Cindy Lou, throwing my skinny self down the rock path from school because i tell her Santa is real - she doesn't believe me a black Studebaker with red plaid seats, covered in thick clear plastic. My face sticks to it as i sleep in the back seat. airports across the US - dirty old carpet in Newark, a glass box smoke filled room in Chicago, La Guardia's modern new view, soft snowflakes falling outside the floor to ceiling windows at Reagan, crying in the parking lot at Daytona Beach International, holding on to my Sailor son at HOU, broken hearts left at PIT, holding precious grandson Andrew at Honolulu International, Lexi relaxing in the vibrating lounge chair in Nashville Airport, and glad the jet didn't land in the water in San Francisco. seven of us on a six man toboggan - flying down Sunny Slopes all night long beautiful red headed Moira, arms out stretched, scampering down the sidewalk to me Friday dance nights in the living room - two-step and d i s c o myself walking our cocker spaniel into the Vet office for the last time each of my children as I left them in those little wooden school chairs for the first time my proud grandparents sitting in the bleachers in the sweltering auditorium for my high school graduation. Wish I knew then, what i know now a hermetically sealed house and melting ice-cream as my lanky frame fits through the little second floor bathroom window to unlock the front door the long frigid walk up Mt Washington after abandoning the car at the bottom due to a blustery blizzard Nancy, Diane, Kathy and I carrying on at South Park pool trying to get the lifeguard's attention the fire raging on top of my first Thanksgiving turkey and the smoke detector sirens blaring Happy Hour at John Q's - and finding out what I thought was a french fry was a fried smelt. glass enclosed candle lanterns swaying and fireworks blaring from the top deck of the beach house firing a shotgun at the deer lease in Ridge Texas you talking to me in the car - in The Rose parking lot the mother's day card with the upside down flower stem my aunt, my mother and grandmother all screaming at each other in the Arbor Lane kitchen the horse stepping backwards onto my foot at the country house - I, also see the reprimand the rapids cascading over and over at the Ohiopyle cabin - the water is crystal clear - dancing and cold the students, hippies and old people sharing reefer on a smoke filled Greyhound bus cruising through to State College, PA the last run at Seven Springs ending up at the bottom of the slope, on my stomach with my skis over top of my head - in front of classmates my kids holding onto my knees as I skate them around the north and south ice-skating rinks sitting at the glass top table in the screened-in back porch on a hot January night. receiving the phone call i had dreaded my whole life... us walking all of the beaches words of wisdom, philosophy, god and care on a Christmas post as rain falls silently in the woods and drips from the moss you walking in my dreams