It may not even have to be perfection. Time simply shifts perceptions
on us. Not that they were wrong to begin with, simply that the passage
of years has changed them. I went back to my old high school in
September 1961, only two or three months after I graduated, and it did
not look the same nor did retain for me the sense of being an "insider."
I was now officially an outsider, a condition I'd reach many times as I
went from one "life" to the next. The high school and Deborah's
great-uncle's house...they both seemed smaller. As far as my school, it
was hard to imagine what I'd done there for all those years. The act of
feel displaced found its way into a poem about my ex getting rid of our
old house several years after I was gone.
You will leave and strangers will live in the house
that was a house of strangers.
The house will look like grade schools we attended,
turned from reality to a place we could not believe
ever contained what happened there.
Ken
-----------------------------
Ken Wolman
Miercom
www.mier.com
609-490-0200, ext. *8-14
> In my mind and his, the house was twice the size as
> well as the horse pastures and drive. So the "perfect
> image" was perfected by our minds and the images
> were no where near reality.
>
> deborah
|