And now Elizabeth Hardwick is dead.
Dead seems like such a flat, dull word to express this kind of quiet loss.
This weather perpetually reminds me of being young in Maine and New Hampshire.
I can see the squat glasses sitting low with ice and clear yellowed drinks.
Childhood
consists of all the things
I only recognize from having lost them.
And now you too will be
a memory passed
to me from a child.
Small wooden blocks
with colored tin circles,
while you all had adult conversations
and laughed together.
This weather perpetually reminds me of being young in Maine and New Hampshire.
I can see the squat glasses sitting low with ice and clear yellowed drinks.
Childhood
consists of all the things
I only recognize from having lost them.
And now you too will be
a memory passed
to me from a child.
Small wooden blocks
with colored tin circles,
while you all had adult conversations
and laughed together.