"The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
My heart is at your festival,
My head hath its coronal,
The fulness of your bliss, I feel--I feel it all."
"Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood"
William Wordsworth
In my memory, the smell of fresh Colombian coffee
Brewing in a dozen pots seeps up the walls
It’s hard though to repaint the walls
When I can’t bring back that time we sat on Main Street
Outside The Chosen Bean sipping some hot cocoa
With a shot of amaretto flavoring
Seeing how people walked that way
And talked this way when they didn’t see us there
It doesn’t matter if I can’t pick you out of thin air
In order to take a trip up the apartment stairs
Behind my family’s coffeehouse
When I can scrap the splinters of each time
We looked through the railing at the yellow sky
Talking about how we were going to live on our own when we turned 16
Making sure the other never lost himself
I’ve been thinking of you lately until I realize
That all I have is my family’s run down business
That every time I pass by on that once a year trip without you
It has a different name
And I don’t recall how many times it’s changed
