This town begs to be a city. Eclectic shops come and go. Dreams blossom and wilt. Still it swallows me whole sometimes. Just like it did when I was seventeen. A few high rises line the river offering penthouse status, sparkles of blue and a clear view of another country. Seagulls circle over small boutiques, flea markets and the latest hang out for organic cuisine. I smirk at the English pub I used to frequent often with friends. The raw acoustic sound wraps itself around me like a familiar hug. The old theater, now a venue for live performances is lit up like Vegas in vintage cinema letters. I pass the art gallery, a martini bar and a retro music store before finally reaching the library. This is the last stop before the scenery becomes a bit dicey. Or… you can make your way to the chemical plants, where this town hides the best of its big city lights.
I was small under fall of leaves
Colossal in the spring of youth
Shadowed in wake of winter
Summer sun, my only light
This week, we are taking our haibun to the city with a contemporary approach to the form. Bjorn shares all the details over at dVerse. Hope to meet up with you there!
mishunderstood 