Too full of passion to
Dancing in a memory of land
Lungs full of air ancient and loaded with laughter
Free to wander with feet and mind
Determined to hang onto the joy,
I’m going sailing instead
While I didn’t write much in Italy at all (and barely in Scotland) I made notes instead. Bullets of thought to trigger something to write about later. Now I have an urgency…why didn’t I write? I need to hang onto those feelings. The overwhelmingness of everything. Of an awareness of all the senses hungry and sated. Here’s one. A memory.
At Montestigliano there really were faeries in the woods at night. About the third night, a group of us took a walk after sunset. True, we had had just a little wine. OK, that’s a lie. It was a lot. But I don’t want you to think I was hallucinating. They really were there. The faeries. Imagine this path.
Answer phones can I help you
Dancing in a memory of land
My feet are in shoes, with toes in hose
Lungs full of air ancient and loaded with laughter
While fighting panic pangs borne of project deadlines
Free to wander with feet and mind
I make requests for budget revisions
Determined to hang onto the joy,
I’m going sailing instead
While I didn’t write much in Italy at all (and barely in Scotland) I made notes instead. Bullets of thought to trigger something to write about later. Now I have an urgency…why didn’t I write? I need to hang onto those feelings. The overwhelmingness of everything. Of an awareness of all the senses hungry and sated. Here’s one. A memory.
At Montestigliano there really were faeries in the woods at night. About the third night, a group of us took a walk after sunset. True, we had had just a little wine. OK, that’s a lie. It was a lot. But I don’t want you to think I was hallucinating. They really were there. The faeries. Imagine this path.
Or this one. But in the dark. Then going through the woods. 
And at knee level and below, beside us and beyond, little faeries with their wands lit up, dancing through the underbrush. An occasional brave one, zooming in front or beside us. They were happy. It was contagious. They didn’t say a word, yet still their laughter was running through their group. (And so also in ours.) Happy that we had come out to share the night with them. We all saw them. That night, and every night thereafter. The villa guide suggested we stroll at night to see the fireflies. But they must have been scared away by the faeries. Thankfully, we weren’t.
And at knee level and below, beside us and beyond, little faeries with their wands lit up, dancing through the underbrush. An occasional brave one, zooming in front or beside us. They were happy. It was contagious. They didn’t say a word, yet still their laughter was running through their group. (And so also in ours.) Happy that we had come out to share the night with them. We all saw them. That night, and every night thereafter. The villa guide suggested we stroll at night to see the fireflies. But they must have been scared away by the faeries. Thankfully, we weren’t. 
1 comment:
I was just up w/ baby, can't go back to sleep, and just had to comment on this post. I loved your Italy memory! Little bits here and there seem better anyway, more thoughtful. I'll have to join you on the sailboat next time. It sounds like you guys had the perfect day!
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