The Modern Romantic

ForeverAwkward (And Maybe Learning)

(I was reading Wordsworth last night.)

I’ve been away from home
For almost a year now, and
I’ve developed a habit of sorts-
I sit alone in the tiny balcony
Of my tiny room for exactly
Twenty one minutes before
I sleep, just watching the
Silhouettes of trees swaying
Dark, against a lighter dark.

I sit alone, quiet, and droopy
Eyed, my silent meditation
Broken only by the occasional
Howl of street dogs, and the
Annoyed whistle of the colony
Watchman chasing them away,
And I think, through measured,
Deep breaths, of what I’ve done
Through my long, winding day.

I watch the hung clothes flutter
Around on the roofs around me
And the flickering of the television
Through my neighbour’s window
And I lean into my cheap plastic
Chair, enjoying my moment of
Absolute solitude, enveloped
By my own ceasing whirlwind
Of happy memories and thoughts.

I’m a city…

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