I dreamt half my life was spent
in wonder, and never suspected.
So immersed in the moment
I forgot I was ever there.
Red-tailed hawk turning
resistance into ecstasy.
The patrolmen joking with the drunk
whose butt seemed glued to the sidewalk.
A coral quince blossom in winter,
pink as a lover's present.
And tilting my bamboo umbrella
against the warm slant
of rain, was I not a happy peasant
crossing the great bay on a bridge that began
who knows when, and will end
who knows when.
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Comments about this poem (View #45 by Thomas Centolella )
- Turning pages, Jamie Fox
- Being Within, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Show door, hasmukh amathalal
- They danced, Brian Kilpatrick
- Sure to over come, hasmukh amathalal
- Lull Me to Sleep, Valsa George
- The Little Girl Cried In Agony, Ali Faisal
- Carelessness..., veeraiyah subbulakshmi
- Sycophant, Ali Faisal
- Love, shafeeqrahman rahman
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