Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 2.1: November 30th, 2010
An American in Dublin
by Belinda Roddie
You could be a black spot drifting
in the corner of my eye,
never leaving my sight for a second.
We talk over pints, seafood chowder,
and you ask me why I don’t go home.
What defines home?
You are more than just a speck.
You are a boat floating in the Liffey.
You carry me to sea.
by Belinda Roddie
You could be a black spot drifting
in the corner of my eye,
never leaving my sight for a second.
We talk over pints, seafood chowder,
and you ask me why I don’t go home.
What defines home?
You are more than just a speck.
You are a boat floating in the Liffey.
You carry me to sea.
The work you see here was originally written on November 30th, 2010. It was last modified in 2011.
Comments
Post a Comment