Monday, August 23, 2010

Found Poem

Ask me how old this box is next time we speak

In a twist of serendipitous fortune, I found this post-it lying face-up on the street while moving out of San Francisco yesterday. I'd like to say that it came from one of my boxes--some lost note or thought that lay forgotten for three years, until it came time to move again. But I think it is more likely that the handwriting belongs to some other person, living a parallel life on this, the beautiful and hilly street that has been my base while I worked my first real job, started grad school, fell in love, made friends, saw presidents and politics change in America. Someone else who likely has traveled far and expects to travel again. Someone who hopes, just as I do, that they do speak again, and when they do, they'll remember the day they packed the box.


RachelVB said...

don't be surprised if you catch a glimpse of her in the mirror some day.
Where are you headed?!

miss J. said...

I'm actually transferring to a grad program at UCD -- back home! Working at the Avid Reader til school starts, then a new gig on campus for the school year. Luckily SF isn't far. ;)

Hope you are well!

RachelVB said...

Nice! Congrats!
I miss Davis. I'm glad to hear the Avid Reader is still there. And no, SF isn't far away!
Doing well. Working, writing, moved into a glorious 100 year old house and I love it!
Take Care.
Good luck with the move.