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Durham
by Richard VinceI opened the window slightly
As if to remind myself that
I am in an unfamiliar town.
The same sounds that I hear
At night, wherever I am, are
Somehow different, as if they
Acquire a regional accent.
The air feels different too;
Perhaps proximity to the sea
And the different way the
Land undulates give it a
Playfulness to which I am
Not accustomed.
*
I told her I thought she was
Beautiful; the way she thanked me
Made me think she may have
Known what I meant.
*
Even though I know I am still
In England, the names of towns
Make it feel almost like
Another country.
This is no distance from home,
I know: a week ago I was three
Countries away, and even that
Is only a small fraction of
The world.
There is still room for great
Variety though. This world is
A huge tapestry, woven from
Countless unique threads
Through which I am working.
Each one is different, with its
Own distinctive beauty, just
Like that I saw in her.
10/26/2008 Posted on 11/14/2008
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/15/08 at 04:50 AM It sounds like you still haven't found whatever it is you're after. That's just the way this great piece of writing comes off to me. I could be completely off the mark. Even if I am though, I still liked it. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 11/25/08 at 08:02 PM Durham - yes, I felt that way about it as a child, distinctively alien yet 'familiar'. Leaving the comparison as inference is another example of your natural talent for applying technique without ostentation. Reminds me not to neglect good writing for too long. |
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