December 25, 2007

Amsterdam 2005

Locals in lime, turquoise, purple
     and tangerine blur past
between sprawling shops, pancake
or falafel cafes.

Flashcards flirt Dutch blond
to my half-Sicilian cast.
Every eye catches the eye of everyone else.
     Always a breeze.

A world away that floats on bicycles:
packages hanging carefree,
two babies sleeping in one basket,
a lover's legs wrapped snug
     around the biker's hips.

Tires glide up to a canopied bar
on sloped brick. Paper flaps, this poem
I pour on the tilt of mid-air.

I am visiting from where only some paintings
wear the colors
     that bounce out at me.

Here the war is a newspaper anomaly
rubbing a grocery sack
     low on the handlebar.

—Kathleen Adcock
previously appeared in Moon, Trumpet and Guitar

Posted by dwaber at December 25, 2007 04:32 PM