Sunday, May 17

So I wrote a poem about my day. I got to go over to Anna's house for a few hours- it was really fun. We drank iced tea, took a little walk down the railroad tracks, found some broken pottery and took some pictures of it, went over to Lake Harriet to get some ice cream and held a small band practice- we were missing Gaia.

I showed the poem to both Gaia and Anna- they both loved it. That only happens once in a blue moon- I felt so great. Here's the poem then. I suppose you're wanting to read it.


May 17
We tried to run away
With nothing but an elephant, a camera, and a bag of broken pottery
But I’m not crazy about the lyrics the record player hummed
You write a poem, and I’ll write the story
With words written on the beaten track in permanent marker
Black against sun drenched silver
Held prisoner under the boxcar’s wheels as we slid down gravel mountains
Finding rusty bent pegs and old bits of tin
Picking broken glass from the sky
As we held lilac petals in our eyes
To fall with the sweet summer nights.