new year

a playlist of songs for your new beginning, from me.
h a p p y n e w y e a r !

Pretty

Walking behind me on the way back to the car park through the sand—

"You are so pretty, honey," said an older woman to her [daughter? granddaughter?]

"No I'm not," the girl said.

"Why would you say that?" the woman tsked; offended, almost.

The girl just shrugged. "I just think a lot of other girls are prettier than I am," she said, as if that explained it.

I hung back, walking slower, waiting for the woman's reply.

"Well yes, that's true, there are always going to be prettier people," she nodded.

Nearly five weeks ago

Tonight a boy from class walked me to my car because it was dark and because it was santa monica boulevard, and when I pointed it out and walked on without him he was still waiting for me to unlock it and get in before he waved and turned to go and I thought that was nice. I don't always know if it's a sad thing or a good thing that little gestures like that can get to me so much.

bukowski, again

Alone, and happy at last.
A bed and an open sky, smells
of dirt and alfalfa,
stretched bare toes
in the buzzing summer air.

It was like Iowa, or Oz,
or any number of Midwestern
fairy tales. Small-town kids
find magic, and so do
British wartime children,
but rarely me.

Breathing is easier here,
as is being, as is belonging.

Witches can wait, for now
it's
sky and plants, sky and plants



_____
copyright Miss Erin McIntosh, 2011
please do not reprint without permission

I have not yet given up, she said.