She sends me postcards from Vancouver, with no return address, on the fifth of every month, in memory of when we met. She says she's been waking early, writing poetry at dawn, sitting barefoot on the beach listening to Sufjan Stevens songs.
She says the pictures on the postcards don't do justice to the scene, but I have no way of knowing exactly what she means.
She was a camera I was somewhere in between. She saw picturesque and I tunnel-vision. Now in the darkroom she is waiting for the fix while I go undeveloped.
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She says big crowds keep her company. Every artist that she meets has a nervous sort of comfort that reminds her of me. And I wonder if these postcards means she's having second thoughts. Or if she's just comparing what she has to what we lost.
If I were a camera I'd shoot postcard-worthy scenes and send them out to no one.
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credits
from A Crown for Every Refugee,
released June 1, 2010
Original poem "Postcards" written and performed by Robert Fanning. Find more poetry by Robert Fanning at his website robertfanning.com
Additional lyrics by Amanda Kuhn
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