Inspired by the poet Joe Brainard.

I remember one sunny August day in Jackson’s Point, the tar so wonderfully warm
under my feet.
I remember coming home from school one cold winter morning thinking it was lunch when it was actually recess, and how shamed I felt when my mother explained my mistake.
I remember shivering in the rain for hours; waiting  for ‘Phantasmagoria’  to open their doors so I could be the first in Montréal to hear the new Bay City Rollers album.

I remember sitting in the lopsided chair at my grandmothers scarred wooden table waiting patiently for my favourite meal of all time, a peasant dish from the old country: whitefish, carrots, and potatoes.

I remember floating on a large red and blue striped raft in St. Tropez,
totally zen’d out by the soft motion of the sea.

I remember gently kissing the three dark brown freckles on Debbie Dankoff’s nose.

I remember pulling the Ace of Pentacles during my daily tarot ritual then, eureka! finding a crinkled fifty dollar bill on the sidewalk.

I remember the smell of Jane’s favourite plaid shirt, a heady combination of tobacco and Juicy Fruit.

I remember hiking up Mount Mansfield with my puppy Lucille, my right toe chafing at the tip of my worn out Blundstone thinking yes; it hurts but soon I will be there.