A good day[a poem]
It's a good day.
One where the children aren't screaming too loud as I walk by the playground in the park.
The tune I'm whistling is harmonizing with the car alarms and ambulance sirens.
The sun is a perfect orange circle in the sky from all the smoke, and it's reflected in the black glass of The Office Buildings across the street.
They didn't give me a parking ticket and my car is just warm enough to get the feeling back in my frigid hands.
It's a good day.
Good day indeed :)
I like this type of still life poetry, especially when there are hidden gems between the lines. There's something sinister here in the omitted lines. The focus shifted away from the ambulance, the smoke and lack of children, yet it was important that you put them there. The result is that I was had to make the connections myself which amplified my reaction. Great write.
Your comment gave me a deeper insight into my unconscious than writing this piece did. Thank you!
I'm a firm believer in the idea that you get from art what you bring to it. So I may have been projecting a bit of myself into the interpretation. In any case, that's the beauty of poetry, the same piece can be beautiful to two different people for two different reasons.
wow. beautifully written.. good day indeed.