An Homage To My Faded Past

"My Gaga's Lignum Vitae Tree in bloom, Long Key, FL"

Midnight crawling, whiskey on my breath;Simonton intersects Duval to wait on a cab.

Rhythms mingle, passing each soulful drunken bar while my eyes linger.

Flung back, a 15 me sees the fabrics factory, a white boat of a Cadillac, and cassette

tapes for crusin.

A woman: 80’s tortoise sunglasses, freckled skin, a grin; hair windswept, an auburn

caramel; Shorts fitted an hourglass figure; Blouse adorned in island vibes; Sandals, never flip

flops. My Gaga, affectionately, a grandmother portraying charm I’ve chased all my life.

Remembering; religiously she brought us meandering down here. Leaving my Papa

parked in the pews of the Episcopal church on Truman, he’d migrate to the top of the LaConcha. What a perch to feel free upon with depth, salt air. Retrieval meant Cuban coffee at the

laundromat.

Seeing now, a wink, a smile, nodding approval of our shopping spree.

Combing racks, I piled into fitting rooms. Nothing dared look paltry on me. Stepping through the curtain to strut,

dance even, was electric.

Watered memories of lime greenery contrasting petal pink leopards, a white background.

It’s A line neck barely hugged down to my knees.Smiling at all the times I would borrow her

costume jewelry as garnish.

Intractable, irreplaceable, it lacks replication. I hear lyrics of a ‘64 song; Dylan’s voice

reminds me: times change, memories fade, yet feelings outlast them all.

Present again, I am solid, abrasive to time.

"A 15 me and my brother, Long Key ,FL"

Written by Julia Wiggins