My childhood, oasis in urban escape
cloistered by walnut book-racks, Verdun tower of ivory
dust curtained amid city lights,
summers in valleys, surging amongst fistful pebbles
in torrents of laughter, splashing of stars choosing earth.
Hide and go seek in parking lots, cars silent castles,
stories outlined in chalk, charmed leaves pressed upon sidewalk,
friends by the handful, two fists and some more
accepted as is-
Loud smiles, nicknames enough,
common agendas, ditto life. Straightforward like snow.
My youth, arms pulling through chopping waters
of crowds choiring in cacophony
adrenaline rush under moonlight
discerning whispers from windy rush and sunrise, alone,
or the charm of granite shards sparkling – if any
heartbeat corrected by music, jazz, soul, swing
swishing sway softly whisper of voice,
dreams redefined. The slang of youth and
Anthropocene, of rolling stones.
cultural gravity defined, high-end downscale
brand synonyms to new ventures ahead.
Until here, until now,
light strewn by eyelashes
scented air through lungs
scents embed in a life to proclaim:
I am. I can.
To be enough.
Celebrate Verdun leaves
strewn on gold necklaces braided from sun rays,
sapphire nights dusted with diamonds
rivers spilling over paths rich in memories
With a medical degree behind her, writer and poet Patricia Furstenberg authored 18 books imbued with history, folklore, legends. The recurrent motives in her writing are unconditional love and war. Her essays and poetry appeared in various online literary magazines. Romanian-born, she resides with her family in South Africa.