Summer Sunday-
Alone in this room
and overwhelmed by me-
by the excitement
of being alone-
Entangled in this web
of mysterys
that draw me
further and further
from your antics
and smoke rings.

Summer afternoon-
surfing on the net-
Consious of the sliding
shining jazz
that you play,
oblivious of the
hard beat of the sun
outside.

Adrenalin surges-
concentration acute-
A broad leaf of a houseplant
is blown to a sideways rhythmn
by a feeble wind
and an old faithful fan.

I am drawn further
from my focus
on impending fear,
from overwhelming tasks.
I venture
into old Riga,
full of
painted rooftops
and cobblestone streets.

Poets read
their manuscripts-
clear and daunting words.
I ride into new realms-
tropical islands-
dense forests.
At times I lose my way
and flip and rotate-
there and everywhere
it seems..

A gust of a breeze
and a tinge of a headache,
slap me back into my
unreality.
Maybe now,
I will go
for a walk with you,
as this day draws
to the pale silver
light of dusk.
And then again,
maybe not...
..............

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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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