During the benefit last night, I heard a tune being played by the Corktown Popes, while in the kitchen. I went out in the hall and stared at the stage as they played. I was looking into and ghost of a bitter sweet memory. Those of us with Irish blood tend to hold onto the bitter sweet and squeeze it until only the sweetness remains Though it might bring a tear to most, somehow it makes the heart feel alive. Not that I needed to hear that tune, every falling leaf brings it back, this time of year. I have squeezed the bitterness out of that memory, now it is as sweet as the Fall Morning air. Where that memory brought me to is where I am now, satisfied with each falling leaf. youtube/watch?v=cLCYH36ahpE
Posted on: Fri, 17 Oct 2014 15:28:32 +0000
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