crocuses and starlings
sunshine and blue skies
looks like spring
chill runs up my back
(I ignore the wind)
train ride
(reading time)
city streets
so much of everything
pigeons, pedestrians, cars, scooters
noise, speed, dust
(surprised I am here)
head dizzy from scents
luxury bath bombs as a gift
for my firstborn
makes no sense how time flies
it’s her age not mine that tells me I might be old
(and I am not)
kitsune, libarebane, fox
shapeshifting
power, age, wisdom
one theme, forty-eight illustrators
talent and skills unlimited
alone at the exhibition I could be anyone
it takes time to get used to one’s skin
(when did my hands get wrinkled)
one room bookstore, an exercise of restraint
four books - good choice, never a disappointment
words cram the brain, run in the blood,
beat in the heart of writers
word magicians,
weaving nets to catch the readers
(I am tangled)
(train ride)
I fish out a fresh book
the cover smells like geraniums
with a hint of lemon
the anticipation of reading twists into a distant memory
I was a child once
or maybe a fox
I am sure a metaphor is hidden in this moment
(but it escapes me)
This post was a beautiful journey itself. Thank you for taking us with you!
ReplyDeleteI'm tangled too! I love how you captured so much about your trip in this poem. Train ride (reading time)! For me, anytime I capture reading time is sublime time.
ReplyDelete