Sentimental folk

A poem about leaving Shuzenji.

I’m about to say goodbye to this town

To this sun-filled room

To this second-hand guitar

To sunset strolls to the convenience store

And the brand new feeling of being completely alone.

All week I elongate each ‘last time’

Last scorched sunbeams through broken blinds

Last stretch of linen over rooftop washing line

Last midday melody bounces over skies

And I try in vain to notate in my mind.

I descend from sentimental folk, you see

They cry at movies they’ve already seen

They gesture to show me how tiny I’ve been

They show me that nostalgia is a mighty lens

And through it I see the world as my friend.