The Buddha Trees, by pd lyons


 

sometimes autumn is all there is

sometimes autumn is all there is

The Buddha Trees

 

 

I have escaped.

Finding myself

In a foreign country

Smoking endlessly free tobacco

Finding myself

Only able to sit by this window

Looking at trees

One after the other

 

I have escaped.

Finding myself

In new running shoes

Safe among strangers

Finding myself

Only able to hear music in my head

La  la la la la   la laaa

A woman’s voice

As if asking,

Could I take up my instrument once more?

As if saying,

Together we could skip through spring once more.

As if trusting the concealment of trees

Had been enough.

.

 

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Comments

  • Edward-David Ruiz  On June 24, 2016 at 10:51 pm

    Loved both the poem and the composition of the photo. I’ve always envied people who could play the cello and appreciate its “role” in music-making. Is that a yellow gardenia in the pot? We have a huge white gardenia bush in front of the house, and love the perfume it exudes. Best to all of you there. By the way, did the fateful Brexit vote affect you any, or just the folks in Northern Ireland? e/s

    Like

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