My Long Walk

i didn't gauge the distance right and had to walk a lot further to see it than i intended. it wasn't on the 'top 10' but it was a memory i had reaching back to every summer visit to my great-grandmothers victorian house. she had a rendering of the 'palace of fine arts' above her small black and white tv and before i knew it was in san francisco, i knew it as a mysterious hazy red pantheon, with a dome, that beckoned time and grandeur, made me think of traveling and all that i yearned for made tangible in so small a thing hung on the wall. i sat on the floor watching tv when i was little on the wood floor and more often when i was bored and beating a retreat i returned to it and gazed upon it. i don't remember the conclusions i drew but the impression is burnt in my mind and everytime i see it, i play it back in my mind and it tells me with a singed heart- go. and i finally did. and no matter what panic made me hurry my steps to reach the ferry in time or the 3 buses i took back and my knees throbbing at the symphony it made the whole trip worthit and the rest nothing but chocolate and cherries. because i arrived at where my mind had always wandered and it found a familiar place to rest.