Dear Mama,
Often when I’m riding the train, I look out the window and imagine the landscape passing by in the key of G. There’s the steady rhythm of the train rolling along, something everyday and nostalgic too, a moment out of time. I’m not sure “nostalgic” is quite the right word. But a place that often feels like home. This morning the sun rose in B-flat. There was something simple about it, and glorious. Like the clear melody of a horn deep in your soul.
I love you, Mama. Tell the girls I love them too. I know I’ll see you sometime soon.
Walker
Posted by Pooch
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