Between The Notes

Between The NotesThree years ago it snowed in the morning. At the cemetery, while watching my grandmother for the 21st March touch the stone, I had a thought about how elephants walk vast miles to return to touch the bones of their loved ones. Later that night, you braided my hair and said you didn’t want me to cut it. I told you my secret, then you told me yours. We talked into the witching hour and listened to all of In Rainbows, before you were lost between the notes.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: