Every time I think aboutback home
It's cool and breezy
I wish that I could be thereright now
Just passing time.
Everybody seems to wonder
What it's like down here
I gotta get awayfrom this day-to-dayrunning around,
this is nowhere.
Which isn't the song that sticks in my head long...
....cause I'm still in the office.... have virtually nothing to do but pack up my shit and get ready to move to the fourth floor on tuesday. And I got a phone call last night...... from someone I was very connected with a long time ago. And with whom I would reconnect with every so often.... and whom I haven't heard from in awhile... and I get this Joan Baez song buzzing in my ear, in my heart...
Well, I'll be damned
Here comes your ghost again
But that's not unusual
It's just that the moon is full
And you happened to call
And here I sit Hand on the telephone
Hearing a voice I'd known
A couple of light years ago
Heading straight for a fall
.... She invariably asks how my kids are and gives me the latest rundown on her husband. Just trading pages. Asked if I remember the cottage we went to in Eagle River ten years ago or the time in college when she got up in the middle of the night and stepped on my glasses that had fallen on the floor and was so afraid to tell me.
As I remember your eyes
Were bluer than robin's eggs
My poetry was lousy you said
Where are you calling from?
A booth in the Midwest
Ten years ago I bought you some cufflinks
You brought me something
We both know what memories can bring
They bring diamonds and rust
oh.... there had been trips to the zoo in Milwaukee, plays, concerts. Things had been good. But never seemed to be good enough. There was something about my distinct sense of disorder that bothered her. and her sense of neat, tidy, clean, ordered.... were always more that I could handle. But I did love her dearly. So we talked. A long time. Without a mention of a next call or a cup of coffee...... just a talk.
Now I see you standing with brown leaves falling around
And snow in your hair
Now you're smiling out the window of that crummy hotel
Over Washington Square
Our breath comes out white clouds
Mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
We both could have died then and there
Now you're telling me you're not nostalgic
Then give me another word for it
You who are so good with words
And at keeping things vague
'Cause I need some of that vagueness now
It's all come back too clearly
Yes, I loved you dearly
And if you're offering me diamonds and rust
I've already paid
Maybe it all failed, so long ago, because I didn't fill out the proper SPR-11 form.