Where a field of butterfly grass opens up
to Julian Sands, waiting “In a Room
with a View,” with a straw hat in hand,
fanning the sun in front of his face as he
looks out into the distance of the English
countryside, ready to embrace the female
lead with a kiss. Happiness might be wearing
a double strand of pearls over a plaid jacket,
feeling as if you fit on top of the roof
in a world of good feelings. Someone else
might say to you that the eggs do not need salt
and you are stupid to think so, and that is what
happens when you are seeking happiness
armed only with a knapsack, hiking in the
mountains of Los Angeles, on a winter walk up
Mount Baldy, carrying a book of Browning’s poetry
and a chapbook by Suzanne Lummis. The air was
crisp. The song was good. It was danceable so far
that your fingers snapped, keeping time to the
refrain, and the night, like old age, was too far
away to grasp. The night was glowing like love
in your heart for happiness, for joy, for the sheer
bewilderment of time spent inside a bowl of blackberries,
in a room where you paused to listen for a man
telling you that things were going to be all right,
he said, spectacular, even and, as far away
as 10,068 feet from you, happiness was the highest peak
in the San Gabriel Mountains, but that day it felt like home.
Only 6.5 miles long and you could climb it with 2,300 feet
of walking. If you only close your eyes and believe
there is no right way to walk the path.
Millicent Borges Accardi, a Portuguese-American writer, is the author of four poetry collections, including Only More So (Salmon Poetry) and the recent Quarantine Highway (FlowerSong Press). Among her awards are fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), the Fulbright Program, CantoMundo, the California Arts Council, the Foundation for Contemporary Arts (COVID grant), and the Barbara Deming Foundation’s “Money for Women.” She serves as a mentor in the Adroit Journal and AWP Writer 2 Writer summer programs.