Valentine's Day
I was envious of them
Their instruments allowed a certain spontaneity to their music.
If only I could carry the piano with me, it’s rich woody sound and play to my hearts content to ambling tourist or a wandering couple.
I kept the soft silk dyed scarf my mother had given me fastened around my head, covering myself just so, with my eyes slightly to the ground. There would still be time before the wounds healed altogether.
The ruins at Ostia Antica seemed to go on for miles and miles, the ruined lives of those left behind were now amazing structure. Would the little town of Chataquana become a ruin as this Italian city had ? Would our lives and the truth be reduced to crumbling buildings.
I stopped at the edge of the harbor watching the Tiber just below me. It was quiet with most tourist at lunch. I found a place overlooking the water and began to work on a composition humming out the notes in my head, hoping to be back at the apartment before dark.
I had seen and walked these street a thousand times when I was younger and now they were home. Here, it was as if nothing changed the people and sight I believed to be exactly the same as I had seen a million times before.
I loosened the scarf covering my hair a strong wind picking it up and carrying it away, my compositions went with it twisting and turning in the air before landing in the clear blue water and floating peacefully away.
FINTheir instruments allowed a certain spontaneity to their music.
If only I could carry the piano with me, it’s rich woody sound and play to my hearts content to ambling tourist or a wandering couple.
I kept the soft silk dyed scarf my mother had given me fastened around my head, covering myself just so, with my eyes slightly to the ground. There would still be time before the wounds healed altogether.
The ruins at Ostia Antica seemed to go on for miles and miles, the ruined lives of those left behind were now amazing structure. Would the little town of Chataquana become a ruin as this Italian city had ? Would our lives and the truth be reduced to crumbling buildings.
I stopped at the edge of the harbor watching the Tiber just below me. It was quiet with most tourist at lunch. I found a place overlooking the water and began to work on a composition humming out the notes in my head, hoping to be back at the apartment before dark.
I had seen and walked these street a thousand times when I was younger and now they were home. Here, it was as if nothing changed the people and sight I believed to be exactly the same as I had seen a million times before.
I loosened the scarf covering my hair a strong wind picking it up and carrying it away, my compositions went with it twisting and turning in the air before landing in the clear blue water and floating peacefully away.
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