amsterdam, august 22, by the canal

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the evening is waterwings,
tucked neatly
in a golden sunset

my feet dangle off the edge
between canal and sky, boats,
neighbored by a thousand bicycles,

scent of pot and coffee,
amsterdam’s slow breath
i wanna capture it

inhale &blow it back

into the windmills, grachten& small houses
tongue/2tongue to lips—-a prayer

redbricks, dark as blood,
wind on my face,

the joyful kids’ cheers in the playground
as the sun sinks to my toes
for one last gentle touch

on her path westwards

peaceful evening by the canal, praying for a friend & thinking of my mom’s birthday one week later – she would’ve been 90 yesterday
i had a really good time in amsterdam and rotterdam, and read two books during the holidays that influenced my life quite a bit – ha – i didn’t smoke pot though but i honestly love the smell.. smiles

13 responses to “amsterdam, august 22, by the canal”

You have captured it, Claudia!

I love Amsterdam… but I have never seen it when it’s warm and nice. I loved the flower market too… a great city to walk in.

Ah…a place I’ve never been but have on the list to visit…so enjoyed this vicarious holiday with you.

That is such a beautiful, visual poem. Actually, I kind of felt like I could taste it too. 😉 Fantastic word choices. Love sun sinking into my toes.

And that first stanza… Wow

Taking all in while getting a contact high. Look at you lol sure captured all around you indeed.

So glad you had a good time and read those books. Your poem is so beautifully descriptive of the scene as well as the feelings it evokes in you. I’m sure your Mom too is glad you’re enjoying life.
Nice to connect with you.

A beautiful write Claudia. You have a way of taking me there. Hope you are well.

Thank you for sharing such an imagery-touched, serene moment, dear Claudia. I have a cousin, choreographer/dancer, who lives between Amsterdam and NYC–methinks I want to visit her.

“scent of pot and coffee,
amsterdam’s slow breath
i wanna capture it”

What I wouldn’t give to be there with you, girl. 🙂

Maybe we could just eat it instead. 😛

I love the tongue line, especially take with the line that follows:
“tongue/2tongue to lips—-a prayer

redbricks, dark as blood,” … This makes me think of lips as bricks, prayers as bricks — the three, interchangeable, interconnected at least. Lips, words, are heavy, heavy things sometimes. Also building blocks.