Saying goodbye to what happened

December 10, 1984

I am saying that the years were just being themselves while we were not noticing them; I am saying that wherever you are is a special place, with something that otherwise wouldn't have been, because you are there. Taking that view, it is different in the world - the world is a different place, I am saying, not quite as it seemed, more ready to change, maybe just ready for tomorrows. And whatever sounds come, they promise to say a new little tune if you want, or they'll go away - you know how the same scenes may look alike but some give a feeling of not going to stay the same. Now, that difference in the world - it has to hide somewhere: it is part of the sunlight, the rain. It has waked with me all of my life, and breathed its air on mirrors and windows wherever I went. So now when I go for a walk, I am looking around for a house that was here, somewhere, for a town that never got built, for a place I hunted and glimpsed sometimes, but then, far down the block the sun couldn't quite make the right light, and it got away.