August 16, 2012

Nostalgia by Rose Mary Boehm


I’m happy here; and yet...
a cloud in passing
smiles at me the way this urchin did
in Umbria and, over there, that rock
looks like Thierry, his Gauloise
glued to his lips;
the humid heat
reminds me of Chiang Mai.

Pacific sunsets do not conjure
the frozen Baltic or the milling crowds
of Oxford Street; no image
takes me to the Brenner Pass
or to the glorious anemones
of Aphrodite’s meadows dressed in spring.

I see the snapshots in my mind.
Why does one image stay and others fade?
Did I leave marks in alien eyes,
or footprints in the stony coast of Cork?

A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives and works in Peru. Two novels and a collection of her poems have been published in the UK. Individual poems have been published or are to be published in Burning Word, Pale Horse, Other Rooms, Toe Good, Requiem, Full of Crow, Poetry Breakfast, Barefoot Review, Poetry Quarterly, Verse Wisconsin etc.

3 comments:

  1. The poem invokes many lovely images in a rather intriguing melancholy manner.

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  2. What a sad and beautiful poem.

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