i'm dreaming of a white, wood-panneled house. atop a hill--a sloping hill that abuts the atlantic.
there will be the requisite white picket fence. a white picket fence in front of our white, wood-panneled home. and there will be bikes. bikes just there--by the gate. mine will be robin's egg blue. it will have high-handlebars and a wicker basket. it will get me to the grocery store and to the library. to the small single-room movie theatre and down to the beach. on sunday mornings i will bunch up my dress and pray that the spokes don't grab hold of my hem before church. and my kennedy-of-a-husband and i will race down the hill to our favorite coffee shop. and there we will spend the lazy summer mornings wondering how it is anyone ever finishes the new york times crossword puzzle. scratch that--i will sit, watching in wonder as he not only finishes the puzzle, but does so correctly, all the while laughing lovingly at my ridiculous suggestions.
oh, today i'm dreaming of summers on the cape. and a life that's just a stone's throw away.
photo on Cape Cod, summer of 1969