Country Mystic Poem by Brittany Flowers

Never liked the country much
Until moving to a place
With pines and wild berries
Facing the window
The sunlight peeking
Through the evergreen branches
And reflecting the scarlet
Like the rouge brushed on my cheeks
To feel pretty.

Never liked the country much
Until the city skyscrapers
Became the wind whistling
Along with the steady rhythms
Of the melodies
Through my headphones
Beating like a robin's call
As I lay elegantly
Swept across the porch swing.

Never liked the country much
Until the hum of the crickets
Replaced ambulance sirens
Where I could sit in solitude
By candlelight with words
Of a classic story
By a classic writer
Whisking me far away
Into a world of unknown depth.

Never liked the country much
Until the lens of a camera
Became my best friend
As the sweet falling leaves
Danced prisms of color
In the autumn wind
And it became an adventure
Like a scavenger hunt
Or a kid in a candy store.

Never liked the country much
Until the rush hour traffic
Became the winding roads
Of endless time
With a cigarette flying
Out the window
To the tune of Led Zeppelin
And his guitar riffs
Raining upon my ears.

Never liked the country much
Until notes in agendas
Became destinations on a whim
To playgrounds of mountains
And country diners
Where the waitress
Never fails
To forget your name
Or your favorite drink.

Never liked the country much
Until my four-inch stilettos
Became the comfy tennis shoes
And messy-bun hair
Where there was no who's-who
To try to impress
And the simple plaid and flannel
That I thought ugly
Is now what keeps me warm at night.

Never liked the country much
Until the sunsets of grandeur
Replaced the gray steel frames
And concrete sidewalks
Where the clouds seem happy
And white with fresh air
Away from the black exhaust
And my silly road rage.

Never liked the country much
Until moving to a place
Where I could be
Who I really am.