Inspired by the poet Joe Brainard.
under my feet.
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.