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Monday, May 18th, 2009 08:04 pm
Two random free-writes I found in a journal while packing. Both are from when I was in St Andrews.

I don't remember why I wrote this

The grasping waves
pull the unwary down
into the deep, dark depths

Where it's still
and the kelp will twist its way around
their faces and hands

and at a time like that, why fight it
as storms rage overhead
and the wind battles the water with such ferocity
and the sea lashes the shore
there's peace below

And oh, I am drowning
bound in kelp and lulled by the waves
sirens sing of letting go
and the sea of returning

And this is how it would be-
if only it could be-
so awing and tremulous
delicate, cradled in a hand

what a sweet and illusory notion
slipping through fingers even now
take one last regretful look
and know, bemusedly, of this strange longing.
~~~~~
Train Journey

Bare trees frame a hazy sky
and the sun is low against the earth
as we glide by stocky brick houses
and anonymous green fields

and dimly glimpsed,
a reflection of wide eyed staring
and isolated reflecting
and the endless thrum of the train as it swings gently
       back and forth.

The journey goes on
a time away from the hassle
life on pause
city by city
and through the ancient places
heading further and further
south.

This is a moment of mundanity that will one day be longed for
Some day I'll wish I were still a young woman on a train
heading south in order to go....
elsewhere.

Someday I'll wish I were still a young woman
in the middle of a great adventure
bearing the burden of wide open tomorrow.

Someday I'll only think fondly of trials by fire
and laugh at the drama that so fills life.