Homer

In Homer, the sunlight saturates through everything, bleaching out even the saddest, deepest dark thoughts that had time to grow in your heart all winter.

When you get there, look down at your feet and you’ll find smooth dove-grey rocks, turquoise sea glass and rich, squishy green seaweed, Look out toward the water and you’ll see snow on the mountains and inky blue waters. Behind you, pale, planked buildings tilt a little, their paint chipping away, their skins pastel. Every one squints in the sun, pulls their windbreakers tight around their chest to keep out the cold air blasting off of the waves.

I know that it rains in Homer, and I’m sure there’s unhappiness lurking in the sea grass, but I’ve never seen it. Maybe it can be shaken away like sand from sneakers. Maybe the blue and the green and the white are enough to scare the shadows away.

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"... all my lovers were there with me, all my past and futures."

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