You Can Tell ... Can You (Not)?

This is income tax filing time, but also the time when many folks start booking their May and summer holidays. Many are way past the 'thinking about it' stage by now and some most probably have firm and definite bookings.

Went to Breda to get hubby something, which I could have gotten closer to home and even on another day, but I am happy to get out of the house for any reason. Not that I don't like it at home. On the contrary. It's just that getting out has always had a positive influence on my thoughts and where they tend to go. Maybe sitting behind the wheel gives me the feeling that I am a little bit in control. Or is that it? I think it's more the fact that I need to distract myself once in a while, and that once in a while is happening more often.

Sunny day, and this is a shop I always pass by whenever I walk to the centre after parking my car for free quite a distance outside it. Had often thought of blipping this shop window and today, I thought 'Why not?' I'd already shot some lovely willow trees near the canal, with their very fresh new leaves, but this one seems to have captured my mood. I don't know if BLIP is saving my day-to-day life, but it certainly is becoming a logbook of moods. I don't mind if you can't always 'see' through what I put here, though. Fact is, by laying it out onto this 'table' I've exposed it to the birds of prey and they can take it with them when they leave.

I'll share a poem I wrote years ago but haven't yet published. It'll be included in my second collection, hopefully out next year. Here goes --


BREDA, SUMMER 2007

You have disappeared from its streets!
You’ve fled from under the coats and umbrellas,
you’ve stopped waving from the corners,
you’re nowhere to be found –

Breda is mine again!

I was always saying goodbye to you,
every time I shut a door
or emptied an overnight bag, every time
I folded things and put them away,
or turned off the lights at the office,
while you hung yourself like a coat
in the foyer, waiting for some man
to wear you and take you home.

Now you are really gone!

I have my house back,
my boots, books and chairs in place,
pen and paper on the table,
everything restored to what it used to be,
the dear solitary life in all its splendour.


© Ellaphant, 2007