I’ve spent a considerable amount of time during this, the now infamous Blizzard of 2011, concocting a love letter. It speaks of a life altered, of little boys in their skivvy shorts getting along and laughing on couches and bunk beds. The words I’ve put down quote Neruda and Vonnegut and the echo sentiments that are new to me. The letters form together and it is my hope that though it’s never possible to explain in words these feelings, at least not with the urgency and sincerity that any of us might like when tackling an endeavor such as this, one might understand. The letters will line up and they will create a mark on another’s heart. They will speak of what’s happened, what had been done to us before the end of last year, and what we’re doing, together, to rectify those things and those hurts.
The marks on the page wind about and curve. A’s and F’s and L’s mesh and give glimpses of where this shall lead. In those words are promises, said and unsaid, that I hope are still relevant and good enough to be recalled 20 years down the road. This will last until then. Will the page wither? Will the words fade? Will the ink stay?
Tasks like these, at least for me, would be so much easier if I could turn them into playlists and hand over a disc, full of songs and the words of other’s that might do just as well to explain my heart. And if that were possible, if it were okay to lay the burden of speaking of this love on another’s back, there would undoubtedly be a jam or two from The Beggar Folk on that piece of plastic, seemingly tough but incredibly fragile. Just like our hearts.
The Beggar Folk :: The Beggar Folk [STREAM]
The Beggar Folk :: Ohio Interlude [STREAM]