a one-day business trip

the train brings me

back alleys of the city buildings

graffiti walls of neglected streets

wheels bound to the south roads

i revel  at the open spaces

of fields green & yellow

of trees lording it over the

rolling empty landscape

the train brings me

to new city with different

highlights & views

the towns are small packages

to be unwrapped with care

the folks who live here

know the folks who are just

passing by, who is 

watching whom from the windows?

the train is a moving bridge

or am i the train

moving foward

and moving backward

after business is done

i note the small stores,

narrow roads, even narrower lanes

wildflowers greet you

as time slows down

my pulse mellows down to rest

the train brings me

perspective the colors of autumn

a nostalgia of the simplicity of life

in a small city & towns

but also a realization that i am

very much a big city person

i calculate the distance from home

in terms of verses i 

pen waiting for the final 

station stop

 

Posted for the dVerse Poets Pub, Poetics, Travelling by Train - Hosed by Punam.  Thank you for your visits and comments.

mind the gap

i step into the subway train

as the wheels grind & groan

the comfort of routine descend

from passing buildings & trees

my thoughts wander

wayward as dandelion fluffs

over the skyway of cars

over bridges of street art & protests 

this space is unbothered by time

this dark tunnel is a fog of poems

this window overlooks gravity

& spots a majestic bird of prey flying

carrying me

over faceless passengers glued to screens 

& hurried texts & to-do-lists-

how far do I go?

what unknown stops await me?

my eyes rest on the valley of blue

where the lake calms & cajoles

a murmuration of birds 

until a whistle breaks

rudely intrudes my train of thoughts

my subway stop is here,

my seat is cold metal & plastic

my backpack weighs a ton

mind the gap (subway sign)

footsteps & faces crowd in

the city, whose clock hurries by

                                        Rick Amor (Australian) “The Agent,” 2019 Oil on canvas 81 x 117 cm

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry in Liminal Spaces, hosted by Dora.  Thanks for the visits and comments.

the owl and me

 

The owl gave me a book

I was excited to open it

Is it a book of wisdom?

So I can follow it, a river

ever flowing, a bird knowing

its way home

But when I read it, what came

To me is a cacophony of sad poems

The melancholy of death songs

The owl looks at me

His bulging eyes filled with questions

His huge body carved by half-moon

Unmoved by my restless hands

Then he points to me a pen

Nudging me to write my words

Listen to my tides & heartbeat

Grow my own feet & feathered wings

Map and unmap my journey

I want to fly to the sky, I say 

The owl is still, waiting for me

I scratch the pages with ink

I scour the edges with electric

moods and soulful dances

A flow of energy curls within, crisp as rain

I lose myself in the salt of verses

and valley of melodies and refrains

I forget where I am

Standing on a tree of life 

Singing to the wind - my song

Artist:    Catrin Welz-Stein

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - PoeticsdVerse Poets Pub - Poetics hosted by Lillian Hallberg.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.