Wednesday, March 28, 2007
in memory of yard boy
And in the spring when the clouds unfoldI find it appropriate and somewhat comforting to quote a song by one friend when taking a moment's pause to remember another.
The leaves are born again
I won't help but to think of you
When my heart still needs a friend
- Jon
Two years ago today.
While my anger has mellowed with time to the inevitable acceptance, I still have naught but loathing for the place that has cursed me.
Sigh.
This afternoon I spent a few hours listening to Rush while mowing and tending to some long overdue yard work. Ob la di, ob la da, right? It felt great to be outside. The melancholy cloud that had followed me all day dissipated in sweat and the sunshine.
I remembered pictures of the places and the way it used to be.
When I was done I grabbed the tallboy of Mickey's I had icing down inside (sorry, but the local convenience store didn't have those widemouth bottles). I cranked up Xanadu on the briPod and stood in silent reflection in the middle of my back yard.
For I have dined on honeydew
And drunk the milk of paradise
I looked to the heavens and raised my brew high. . .
To the brotha that ain't here.
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