Writer

Last week

I drove into work for an event.
My bike carved into the turns
that only make sense in a city
until the skyline revealed itself.

Taking the South Station exit,
sitting at a stop light,
suddenly the smell of lilacs.

All around me
buildings stand up straight to
take in all the sun they can.
Sleepy streets just beginning to stir.

2 comments

Leave a Reply to PATRICIA LEE LEWISCancel reply

  • This is a wonderful poem, Christopher. The sense of place is perfectly clear, the feeling of the curves, the old city, and oh my the scent of lilacs!

Writer
Christopher J. Sparks