(Poem #214 on new numbering scheme)
I walk the streets to work each day and there's a restaurant. It uses wood to cook its food: the smell - it tends to haunt. Aromas paint the air with thoughts and memories of youth; the burning wood recalls to me those camping trips: Duluth. October in the northern woods along Superior; We drove and sang Bob Dylan songs Or stopped there on the shore. Eventually we'd find a camp, where we could raise a tent. We'd light a fire, or take a hike, I guess it's time well spent. So nowadays I miss my friends, our lives each have their track, but when I pass that eating place the smells, they draw me back.
– five quatrains in ballad meter.
That is beautiful! What triggers dreams and memories is interesting, especially if it has to do with the sense of smell.
The past two nights I have dreamt that I was building a house on a lot I owned in McKinleyville…very detailed, framing and everything. The day before I had spent some time in Home Depot, selecting redwood 2×4’s and copper pipe for my next outdoor sculpture. I can only think that the smell of the lumber, triggered that. Second day’s dream was in the exact same house, getting ready for final inspection!
It is winter, days are short, I am trying to keep myself occupied with political activitism by sending postcards to representatives and senators and the White House indicating my concerns. I have hundreds of post cards collected from all over the world, from Mom’s travels too and decided it is a good use for them. The nastiest I got was to accuse Trump of being a coward and telling him to release his tax returns!
Sorry about using this post to catch up with you. That’s what happens when you write beautiful Poems…it prompts a response in others! I think I will(once again!) start writing down my daily dreams…I will call it Dream Snatchers! Love from snowy Colorado.
Thanks for versifying these memories, which are fond for me too. We should do another trip to Hibbing one of these years…