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Journals: Hold onto whatever makes you proud

I am reminded of California when I hear the birds call to each other in the afternoon

I used to spend hours being as still as possible, so they’d trust me

or forget about me, I’ll never know

 

I am reminded of Maine when humidity hits

the smell of salt and wind cracking through my skin

I used to spend hours searching for sea glass on their tiny beaches

until my hands grew numb,

until my pockets were full

 

I am reminded of Italy when the Verbena bloom

a country full of colour, is somehow still one palette

from azure lakes to olive hills, and the small islands full of lemon trees and melon gelato

I used to spend hours in il giardino

thumbing through botanical encyclopedias

digging into latin, trying find meaning for my solitude

antirrhinum, basilico, mentha, zucca, cortarderia, pioppi, vitis

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Written by
misshoney
Published
Apr 8, 2017
Lines·Words
15·143
Notes

unedited musings

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