i thought i would weigh in on this roaming narrative. i’m kevin, and i’ve been singing songs to her again. this lovely muse who hearkens to me, with her perfume and flashing eyes. why does she meet me here in these mountains? doesn’t she know how my heart breaks for her? it’s ok though, it’s ok. the meter is so lovely, so benign, and I am always in her debt.

last night, i dreamed i was in a train station. i was there on the platform, with my guitar and flowers. isn’t the quiet magnificent? the weight of the wind and her sweet repose about me. one train takes me to her and one train takes me away from her. hark the bleeding heart and the pierce of the arrow. i dreamed my vagabond heart broke and burned like a lovely little votive.

oh, i’ve been wandering aimless in the fruit trees again. wandering after her. i can hear the church bells ringing in the village and i am in another lifetime. doesn’t the time act strange when one is in love?

last night in stäffa, she was with me, there like a vineyard. i can never reconcile it; the way she kisses me and retreats again. i know i will chase her though. like modigliani did. and gaugiun too. and if i find her i will try and keep her with me, knowing this could never be. she laughs and says she has fallen in love with me, all over again. my beautiful little valentine. you slay me.

thank you, all of you who’ve come to listen. nadia, sweet stephanie and veronica. the lovelies from the university; andy and madlin who cooked for us americano in the morning. tom, your socialism and the golden albatross; michael and your comrades; the border patrol and the one who always blinds me with pictures. to peter, theresa and the young stephanie for dinner and drinks; thank you to the ones who sang the words as i forgot them. this is the way it has always been: love like the call and response of angels and mortals. one day i will return here, wherever this may be, and i will know you all by the way we hearken the earth and the vines together. if i am fortunate, i will see her again, there beneath the fruit trees, summoning me. and, i will, like many before me, succumb.

let your hearts be broken, my dear friends. sing as it breaks and you will be lifted into mystery. there is no better way to live but to die, every sweet and improbable moment. to her i go now, with my orchids and what i’ve been given. all for her, and more. love, kevin.