People, Places, and Things

Every first of May I remember
that night we ended up at a bluegrass show
and it felt so natural to stomp and holler
and you twirled me around then we left to make love

Because it had to be love, even though we weren’t together
or else I don’t think I’d be writing about it now

And the memories they all blend together
that wasn’t the first of May, but it was spring
do you ever smell a certain perfume and remember?
or feel a certain breeze and find myself transported
back to any night in a city older than I could ever fathom

Where I learned that I am meant to fall in love with
many moments and places

I have been itching to leave, but then yesterday I remembered
that I love this place in the spring
and I have loved on that bluegrass night
and other places in the springtime, too

It is like how the other day at the women’s art museum
there was an exhibit of photographs from the Southwest
and I recognized a black-and-white mountain
that I saw brown and white snow-capped
when I grew fond of a place for a week and forever

Some days I am starving and on others I eat too much
til I am so full I feel empty
I think memories are like that –
I hunger for more but then I also feel
so full and then sad that I do not remember
the specifics but instead let them blend together

But I know that although I cannot place
the exact day of the bluegrass dance
I write it on the day of the Spanish festival in the valley

In the springtime to melt with the other places and people I have loved then.

-L

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Author: City Sister and Mountain Mama

Lindsey and Autumn of citysistermountainmama.wordpress.com

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