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.


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.


This entry was posted in America, Poetry, Thoughts & Musings, Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

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