Ode to Saigon

I weave between metallic shine
Of white hot hub cap, cyclo frame
And taxi bumper: brake, and pause,
Before gearing off again.

I know these roads, littered as they are
With street-vendor, conical hat and coffee stalls.
I know this city, its adrenalin glory
Bewitches travelling hoards who
Melt the sidewalks, daring to cross.

I know this city.
Am rooted here, breathing in
A now familiar pulse.
Saigon.
Sentimentally I am yours.
Energetically you are the calm and constant
Backdrop to my life.

Your ebb and flow at once collide
And soothe, and guide.  And hold me tight.

Before too long I’ll view you from afar,
Becoming me, indebted as I am to all you stand for.
For all you are.

 

June has, and continues to be, a month of travel for me…

It is also the month I will remember introducing Florence and Martha to Shel Silverstein, whose poetry is now recited daily by them both in mock recitals at bed-times!

With that in mind, and in the hope that one day they will read this self-indulgent journal, and remember Silverstein’s “Lazy Jane” verse (Flo’s current favourite) I hope they also like this one from Daddy.

Advertisements