Posted in Poetry

Alive from London

Is it because this is a “vacation?” Clusters of moments arrive, and I’m allowed to ditch my worries (Three thousand miles behind) Or does this peace, now fathoms from anxiety, arise in actual physical proximity?

Sidewalks lead to kaleidoscopic scopes, where streets change in every step. Where I mind the gap and follow green men on the other side of the pavement. Still looking both ways. Where gossamer smoke smolders in the air that borders Hyde Park. Here it’s the scent of winter warmth, yet it makes my Utah-heart dream of summer S’mores

Map forgotten at the hotel, but it’s okay. I have my iPhone, but no roaming, hopping from one hotspot to the next. I like this getting lost—Finding my way back.

When Alone and singular, in this metropolis, truth is there to hear. Flowing free.

In the pub. At the bus stop. Or right before the movie starts: “I like being late, it means you’ve already ordered the wine.” “This is the healthiest I’ve been all year.” “No, the French teacher weren’t strict. That was the one with red hair.”

And the wisest words I’ve ever heard (From a shopkeeper surrounded by trappings for tourists) “You can always start from whenever you are and go back to the beginning.”

I am. I’m back to my beginning, renewal. Here in London. Rebooted with double decker buses and tube rides. By a burger, pommes frites, and a “porn star martini.” Later, I’ll have more of the cider on tap. Bloody lovely.




*This is a reworking of a poem that had been traditionally formatted, but reworked into a prose poem.

©Ginger Lee Thomason and, 2015-2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ginger Lee Thomason and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. Image taken with iPhone 5 in London, UK in January 2014 by Ginger Lee Thomason



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