Wednesday, August 5, 2009

coming back


the first time i crossed an ocean

 i was an anxious, adventurous

 and naïve girl of 19.

  i had a backpack, a Eurail pass, a camera,

 journal, and a few hundred dollars

 and felt ready to conquer the world.

  flying into paris my nose was pressed

 to that tiny plastic window

 and with a jaw gaping open

 excitement pounded in my veins.  

the rolling countryside, the provincial towns,

 the red-roofed cottages—even from the air

 i could feel the storybook romance.  

and at that moment i resolutely declared to my friends,

i’m going to move here.

since then, 13 years have passed.

  and the excitement and ambition i had back then--

to see it all, do it all—has never really left me.

 i’ve never been one to return to places,

 no matter how amazing, as there is just 

too much of the world left to see.  

but in contradiction to that rule:

 i cannot help but keep returning to france. 

 there’s just something about this place

—something I felt the first moment i laid eyes on it, 

and something that just keeps me 

coming back for more.

3 comments:

Davian said...

mmmm hmmmm.

mer said...

agreed. I want to see so much of the world but take me back to France any day!

Shannon said...

I so remember that first trip there, the excitement we felt and how amazing that country is.... can't believe you made it back there to LIVE this summer. Amazing...