two januaries

eight years since I lived on that street, walking to the cafes, the uni, coming back from the city, alighting from the tram, coming home at night. that summer was a particularly enjoyable one. i had nothing to do but novels to read and cafes to go, every day, loving those aimless, reflective afternoons while eagerly waiting for the new term to begin. there was an album of songs then that i kept listening to, put on repeat and repeat and repeat so much that that summer became those songs. and for a long while afterwards, after summer had ended, after i'd left, listening to those songs brought me back to that summer and those breezy days. i walked past that street yesterday. i thought of those saturday afternoons years ago when i had nothing to do but novels to read and cafes to go and had all the time in the world on my hands. i put on those songs that accompanied that summer. the magic returned, that afternoon light, those colour of leaves, fragments of images of that time, those songs and her voice, and how those times are gone now.

new year's day

I stood in the gardens in the highlands. Child of this land, son of ancient kings. Coronation ode, Elgar. The tune. The march. Your face. It was New Year’s day 2011. The night was warm, and spread out before me, the stars.