{"id":120,"date":"2009-02-28T15:34:49","date_gmt":"2009-02-28T20:34:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/?p=120"},"modified":"2009-02-28T15:34:49","modified_gmt":"2009-02-28T20:34:49","slug":"independent-vibe","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/2009\/02\/28\/independent-vibe\/","title":{"rendered":"Independent vibe"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-content\/uploads\/2009\/02\/old.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-content\/uploads\/2009\/02\/old.jpg\" alt=\"\" title=\"old\" width=\"497\" height=\"471\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-121\" srcset=\"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-content\/uploads\/2009\/02\/old.jpg 497w, http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-content\/uploads\/2009\/02\/old-300x284.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 497px) 100vw, 497px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>Independent vibe<br \/>\nHer grandmother told her stories of old<br \/>\nOf automobiles<br \/>\nOf the people they would go to meet<br \/>\nOf a more simple life<br \/>\nShe wore her grandmothers clothes<br \/>\nTo her they would always be pretty<\/p>\n<p>His grandfather lay dead in the ground<br \/>\nBut he still had stories<br \/>\nFrom photographs<br \/>\nPieces, fragments of history<br \/>\nSometimes had to invent meanings, or names, but the stories were there<br \/>\nLooking back in black and white<\/p>\n<p>The two hold hands now<br \/>\nThey take walks<br \/>\nThey talk of their histories<br \/>\nHer wearing grandmothers sweater<br \/>\nHim wearing the look of his grandfathers face, from those pictures long ago<br \/>\nThey make the new times in front of them<br \/>\nShape what will come<br \/>\nAs they honor the past, they make times to speak of later<br \/>\nTimes for the kids of their kids to tell<br \/>\nShe will be regal<br \/>\nHe will just be<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Independent vibe Her grandmother told her stories of old Of automobiles Of the people they would go to meet Of a more simple life She wore her grandmothers clothes To her they would always be pretty His grandfather lay dead in the ground But he still had stories From photographs Pieces, fragments of history Sometimes [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":889,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-120","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poem-of-the-week"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/120","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/889"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=120"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/120\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":124,"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/120\/revisions\/124"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=120"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=120"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.gavinhignight.com\/updates\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=120"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}