Welcome to another addition of Poetry Monday. This poem is the last in a themed series about travel and the traveler. Hope you enjoyed them all. Next week, we’ll continue our journey through words, but with a different focus. Your comments are always appreciated. Be well, stay safe.
traveler
the city feels different today,
changed since I’ve been gone.
I walk my old ways,
head up, eyes sweeping.
a steeple pokes like new growth
over the trees of the park.
the crowds pour by,
rivers of new-struck pennies
each flashing, eye-catching.
a street turns to scoop yellow evening light,
funnels it like honey into shadowed square.
nothing has changed.
p.ferenczi
