Familiarity

I walked for a while on the other side of the road
The whiteness of the late morning clouds
The moving rounded shapes of familiarity
Walking in the same uphill direction
With eyes in the sky
I do not remember the gutter on that side of the road
The pavement was narrower
Allowing front gardens for two storied duplexes
It was somehow more rustic and countrified
Looking over the hedged in tram tracks
The storefronts separated by flat doors were smaller
Blended together as one building
Which they actually were
I had not noticed this
Though I'd spent most of my life in it
Crossing the street had not been easy
Getting back would be
For soon I'd be where I'd always crossed
To walk down Thomas Lane to school
I stood in front of the blacksmith's
Smelling the burnt hoof horse sweat
Realizing the comfort of familiarity
The clouds sailed by as unconcerned as ever

Reviews

[Nameless]

i like the double perspective you bring into this, the clouds and you, it adds a dimension of fullness to the poem. i would take out the line "which they actually were." it is implied already, don't need it.

[An Ordinary Woman]

"The clouds sailed by as unconcerned as ever"

What a beautiful line of poetry, Donald. So many times when writing I think about "the grass was still green or the birds still sang..." Always so redundant, but this is wonderfully fresh. I enjoyed taking this walk with you.

[J]

Isn't it funny how a child's mind remembers the familiarities of life then ~ surely in proximity to the small space our being displaces . . . "eyes in the sky . . ." this brings me tears, Donald. I don't know why, perhaps the gentleness of remembrance, the feeling of guilelessness lost, the sadness of seeing things in a more discerning light, yet comfort that "The clouds sailed by as unconcerned as ever." This is truly a Sunday afternoon treasure to tuck inside a special pocket. Thank you.
xo

[J.P. Bristow]

you are the king of imagery.....wonderful write.