Markings 60 - Poem of the Day
This morning I am driven
by the human urge to follow clues,
and they are legion. Connecting them
in any semblance of a pattern
or solving them as a puzzle
is only an end in itself.
The fluorescent blue of the jacaranda
reflected in wet suburban streets;
the woman on the train who asks me
for directions in German; the scent
of Russian sobranie pipe tobacco smoke
in the station underground – don’t call
for answers. They are simply ciphers
trying to resolve questions of the heart.
©Jeff Guess 2017