May 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
Melbourne, en route to Rome.
Cold morning light, the beleaguered mid-Fall sun sliding its reluctant way into partial view. I watch my mother put on a brave face, hand raised (fingers splayed), after a sleepless night on the eve of yet another departure. I touch my fingers to the glass as the car pulls away from her, half conscious of the parody we make – her in the tightly wrapped bathrobe, me and my over stuffed bags.
Heart strings thrumming as I feel that strange regret. The one where the scene laid out before me loses its line of sight and I am left helplessly committing the heaviness, the poignancy to memory, empty-handed.
Cameras in the trunk.