Blue Mountain Love

I remember passing through fields of amber beneath starry skies. The wheel under your left hand, mine under your right, on the clutch of my car that day in November. I remember purple mountain majesties up ahead and steel-grey cities behind. Ahead, there was freedom in the hairpin turns and family-run roadside stands, behind there was the greasy condescension of the ‘burbs. This was our American Dream. I remember falling asleep on your shoulder and dreaming that someday everyday would be like a journey back to Nature with you.

I remember a wooden cabin, soft drinks on a dance floor amongst strangers. Fireflies, real twinkling lights of stars in the woods, and soft-padded deer at our door in the blackness. Inside was warm; hot chocolate mixed with cream. I wake up dreaming I’m covered in bubbles and miss the burnt woodsy smell of your cigars. We should have taken that walk outside.

I remember being on top of that mountain, looking at the mélange of leaves turning yellow, orange, red down below, and for once not wanting to jump into them. I remember feeling on top of the world, like we’d won the lottery, and wanting to give every last possession I had, save my baby girl, to Ma in the local foodstop. I’m still going to send her some tobacco in memory of you.

I remember a chapel in a cave, silence in the stone, love in the lorry, freedom on the fringes of the world and feeling that, we should stay there. Let’s buy that little house over there and we shall overcome the petty notions of our opposing societies. Romeo and Juliet without the tragedy. Chickens and gardening and a porch swing. And stars at night, there are always stars at night with you on our mountain.

Impressum

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 27.11.2011

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