Green Peas at Stake

E-Mail Home

Not an easy reality
racing through damp narrow streets...
A childish heart,
worn-out legs,
an aged cramped mind,
rummaging around for musty dreams.

My search gnawing the grain
of a sorceress city,
with its history
mingled with mine,
once upon a time;
its grey river, now miserable
by rains unpredicted.

Angst digging in through,
the insane summer of 2002;
Europe fouled by floods,
increasing the deepening torment
of each footstep.

                    Summer 2002 from the Latin Quarter, Paris

The secret of re-birth,
nibbling on renewed sights,
hoping, loving, leaving, dreaming,
among morose monuments
dwarfed against the sky.

“E-mail home" says
an orange dome-shaped sign,
of a feisty cyber café,
at a corner cradled
in Latin Quarter.

To e-mail home,
one has to be away;
yet, here I’m home,
with my high-pitched song
of intoxicated wonder.

Inside Café de Cluny,
toasting with hope
to this chancy life
I am young,
again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Truth is beautiful, without doubt; but so are lies."- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Joy

image by SMS