Pablo Neruda

   Oddly enough I was introduced to Neruda by the TV show, The Simpsons.  Go figure.  Lisa was commenting on how Bart's predicament reminded her of Neruda.  Bart, unimpressed with Lisa trying to be the cognescenti replied, "I am familiar with Pablo Neruda!"
      And so, after  a darn good Google, I, too, was familiar with Neruda.  I wish my Spanish was better than the street level I speak, but this English version is quite good.
     The street that I know is Court Street, between Front Street and Back Street..  Some of the most beautiful poetry I have ever heard, or seen comes from that street.  Just down the hill, Beyond the Horizon was written.  A few blocks away The Hours were penned.  Up the road a Perfect Storm brewed.
     Why does the street tear into our beings and put the words, the feelings and the song of words?  What does the street know that we might?  What forces lead those with so muched pent up inside them to this watery point of land with dunes to the east and old beech forests to the west?  Then, such words of joy, beauty and sadness were poured out.
     Maybe only the street knows.