missing

Daydreams of the spires of Prague
and other old world cities;
Red rooftops;
Street lamps with foreign shapes.
Unfamiliar syllables and
sinistra in the sottopassaggio!
Winding streets that lead somewhere
I’ve never been.
I’m missing Europe, and autumn will not likely send a return ticket this year.

– – –

Everyone I know seems to be coming to new terms with adulthood lately,
or the dawning of new phases.

We all miss a summer cottage,
or aspects thereof.

– – –

Pi responds fluidly to change,
his movements, exercises in poetic efficiency:
to move is to breathe,
so he never stops moving.

– – –

There are portraits of handsome horses at the flickr page.

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