Chapter 17
If Karen Field could see herself,
objectively, on the bench by the lake,
she might think—there's an attractive,
confident woman.
She might even envy the woman,
seemingly at peace,
soaking up the late afternoon sun,
admiring the last rays
glinting off snowy Pilatus across Lake Luzern
as tourists cross the Kappelbrüke,
wandering back to hotels, hostels, and assignations,
she might give the world to be that woman.
Poetry by jim
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Written on 2017-11-08 at 13:54
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