Friday Poetry Returns (for this week, at least)

Perspective

It feels good to step out of the bustle.
Good to get away; back off and
See the city's lights sparkling across the water.

It feels disconcerting to get that bustle--
Buildings,lights and noise-- into scale with reality.
Identify a truck going past the building and mentally measure the truck's true size.
In this frame, it looks tiny, but reality is much bigger.
The building is mammoth when adjusted, a sparkly toy no longer.
My mind resets the size of the rest of the city accordingly.

It feels terrifying to apply that adjusted scale to the world
and think of a tiny blonde and brunette tucked in bed.
Watched over by a nanny we first met two weeks ago.

So tiny and alone in such a huge sea of light and movement and strangers.

It feels good to dive into the melee, returning to the bustle to be near
our hearts. Tucked into our apartment, close enough to hear their breath
And waking giggles.

Off-topic

Lots to say - we moved.
Aimee is my hero. Totally.

Probably more on all that later.
In the meantime - a coke & mentos fountain.
This one's for you, Aimee!