#5

listenin' to soft music and stacking books in the corner. hosting foreigners on our couches and eating leftovers. keeping a lost and found and dead candles. craving change and change of scenery and staggering our joy and our blues with each other and saying "its ok hang in there." finding old friends again and laughing again hoping there's mending and healing and stars in the sky. cleaning and laundry and phone calls and meetings and packing up bags to go north. i am always going north. to the foothills, to the woods, to the cold place of north deep and far away from ocean and openness. dark and hidden and warm where there are people i know. and i will remember the photos of my grandmother, my seanmathair, whose ghost is around in my dreams.