Daffodils and Peonies lift up their scent from the garden below
Through the window their fragrance drifts poignant and ever slow
The sun settles towards the west drawing with it the last light
Shadows creep across the floor chasing the day from our sight
Soft breeze rustles the blinds, music swaying the slats and cord
Wood grain trails from wall to wall changing with each board
Mindless chatter touches the dusty air around the empty time
Coffee, tea and laughter fight on the screens electric vertical line
Images fade to a small gray dot as the oak box is shut off
Cracking, popping its protest as I exit the door of the loft
New leaves wave as I pass under their light green ceiling
Young grass dances upon the walkway blind and unfeeling
Houses of white, gray board and brick fade behind a tree
Structures of granite, marble, and stone loom ahead of me
Car radio blares out Broadway, a street in a city far away
As I step upon broad Kansas a street in this city today
Light glows green, mocking the color of Topeka’s Capitol dome
Autos suddenly stop their engines belching protest as I roam
Lines in a sidewalk try to jump forth and break my mom’s back
I dodge and weave counting steps so I may avoid each evil crack
Old people stare at women where men browse and children play
Searching for the news, fiction or just a thing too important to say
The smell of tomes, newsprint, candles, candy, ink old and stale
Fills the fluorescent glow of the interior where the world is for sale
Casper, Superman, Batman and Wendy reach to me from the rack
Richie Rich, Mighty Mouse, Flash and Spooky beg me from the stack
I flip the pages as the four colors explode into tempting allure
Nightmare, Green Lantern, Black Hawk, or Dot I’m just not sure
My choices are made held secure and close to my heart within one arm
The rest returned to their slant seat awaiting for the next soul to charm
Silvery coin to clerk, butterscotch stick in mouth I leave with my treasure
Turning towards home I direct my step anticipating hours of pleasure
The red and white machine looms ahead wherein the green bottle lies
Dime in the slot, Twist of the handle to hear the slide and out it flies
Cap popped off as the fizz escapes and tiny bubbles fill the dusky sky
Icy cold the syrupy liquid sharp and sweet burns the throat till I cry
In one hand the bottle kept intact for the two pennies it has earned
In the other hand the magic paper whose pages wait to be turned
Red sky turns purple as blue lights high above hum to dull glow
The cobbled walk tries to trip my step as it leads me home too slow
Upon my porch the round orb above casts it’s yellow and hazy light
As moths and their cousins dance and swarm within their endless flight
The brown, rusty springs stretch on the end of the porch swing chain
Screaming their protest as my weight settles in the seat that I claim
Lost with Uncle Scrooge, Huey, Dewey and Louie within a vault
I sail away until mother calls me to bed, until tomorrow I shall halt
But upon the sunny morning I shall again be whisked far and away
As Hot Stuff, Green Arrow and Lottie jump forth and ask me to play
And when the magic has been used up within the pages faint and torn
Again shall I visit the World News Stand where my mind can be reborn
-The GYPSY-