Pink Floyd

I remember that pale boy in grade 7 that I had a crush on.

The long blond hair, green eyes and quiet Kurt Cobain mystique were his trademarks; what I remember about him most.

I thought of him on Tuesday while driving home past midnight.

Pink Floyd playing on the radio, it made me think of Lee who used to wear this black Pink Floyd shirt all the time.

I wrote him a letter once.

An anonymous one.

He wasn’t supposed to read it but somehow it ended up in his hands.

I never did talk to him.

Ever.

I was a shy girl.

I still am to this day.

Hearing that song playing on the radio momentarily brought back all that 7th grade anxiety and insecurity.

It brought back the embarrassment of having him read my letter and the wonder at never knowing what ever happened to him once we left elementary school and what he might be up to now?

fail me not

The air is frigid and the air that fills my lungs is pure.
Oh how I long to be where there is no sound of rushing cars – no sirens, no alarms.
I long for the tranquility of the ocean.
Its mysterious dark blue depths call to me, offering me a safe haven.
I long for the mountains majestic rising like offerings to the heavens.
The vastness of the sky stretches on eternally and I feel small and insignificant in comparison.

The wind greedily blows, lapping at my face and hair, hungrily, and then all is still.
I hear and see ice caving off the cliffs of the glacier up ahead, thunderous.

It's as though I was born for this moment.