It is the end of the working day
And there is a delicious kind of unease at play
A gentle kind of anarchy….
A gusty breeze of chill mischief
(Puck embodied in Ariel’s element)
Is scattering the linden blossoms
Like the out of season
Cousin of snow,
Flung across a pavement jetty.
Like garlands of jasmine on braided hair
Or promise-laden confetti.
Nature is reclaiming all of us
In this one moment
I wait for the bus
And pause only just
To appreciate the cinematic beauty
And to wonder what…
Or whom, waits for me?
(© Copyright Pola Negri 25/04/2017)