Can you help me?

by D.   Jun 18, 2020


I am looking for something
I don't know or remember existing:

the nooks in the alleys,
shallow puddles on the
cracked cobblestones -
open bakery windows,
fleeting scents of bread
over dank, musty mornings,

the ropes that hang from
sturdy boughs, muffled
laughter from inside
the tavern - a murmur
of a stranger whom I
may never see again -

the dips in the valleys,
narrow bridges 'cross
canals, murky water in
my lungs - the rumour
of a thunderstorm that
waits in the west;

I am looking for something
I don't know or remember existing.

3


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Latest Comments

  • 4 years ago

    by Ben Pickard

    Your poetry is always so vivid, Daniel. The scent of those loaves permeated each of your words as I read and I too found myself hopelessly scratching around for a time that was - that still echoes across the land if we listen hard enough - but is painfully out of reach.

    All the best, good man.

    • 4 years ago

      by D.

      Thank you for the kind words, Ben. I actually made myself hungry writing that line ahah

      Hope you and yours are well as ever.

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