I havenít gone out much these daysBut as the body is locked down, the mind
Wanders through the spring streets,
Where every crack mere glanced now forms a map
To follow with my eyes closed.
Out my window, the trees seem so green.
Greener still I think are those
A few streets away by the old college.
My mind winds and follows their leaves,
Dancing with the wind, down to the river-
I can even imagine their whistling waves
That seem to strive to slap the sky, and soon
My mind too follows that azure width.
But thereís a point where it gets boring.
Sightseeing loses its luster and my mind
Turns inward, flitting through memories
Of all the streets, spring and all, Iíve walked;
All the trees, green or not, Iíve watched,
And soon enough boredom drags it to where
Iíd rather it not go, and I stop.
Sometimes I cannot.
I havenít gone out much these days.
Poetry by Sameen
Read 100 times
Written on 2021-05-04 at 03:33
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