A street poem

I walk on the street,
the sky is caught between grey &
faint blue pages-

It is mid-April, 
the city stores are selling spring 
colored shoes & clothes,

I imagine would be great
if I am going to Italy or Jamaica
for week of summer fun & escape 

But I am working this summer
and saving money for a college plan-
As I trudge & sit in the red bus 

I start thinking of lines to write - 
-Where the sea meets my toes, like an inkwell- 
-Where a narrow road leads to a Gothic tower-  

But they all end up with this orange,  round & firm 
in my hand.   So, I peel it slowly like a book.  
It tasted sweet, like the sun.      

Toronto City

Picture credit:   here

Posted for:   Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Inspired by writings of Billy Collins - Accessible Poetry