Small Rhapsody

The weathered moon, the shoeless dream walks,
The cold damp of subway stations, the expanding universe,
A cat sleeps, a dog barks, the anxieties, the morning coffee,
The dull etcetera of a boring job, a walk in the morning rain,

What I thought was real, it all stirs and fathoms and flashes,
What is not beautiful and untrue, how to (cosmically)

Sleep by an open window, strained, uncertain, folly,
Joy, to walk alongside a passing train, eat an apple,
By chance fall home
Along the tabby road, up and over the feral pickets.

18 thoughts on “Small Rhapsody

  1. I love this poem Bob! Its brilliant and flows so well. It felt like following the writer in their day to day and observations, while also their thoughts trailing out to the universe. I like that contrast.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re most welcome! I like that volley and how it makes me as a reader also pause and let my thoughts trail out. Funny enough just after reading your poem I came across a short documentary about the James Webb telescope. In the middle of it I would remember your poem.
        Wishing you a wonderful week ahead Bob!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. This is such a potent reminder that in every instance there is seemingly an infinity of things and thoughts going on. Well done Bob. And then the sudden, surprising ending – the feral pickets, almost like a nightmare.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Steve! I agree, there are seemingly infinite things and thoughts, but I think we forget that. And I think there is still a feral side to us, unsettled, wild.


  3. There is a real elegance to this poem Bob, right from the first line – the shoeless dream walks (!). And beautiful juxtapositions – the cold damp subways, the expanding universe… awesome. Also, (perhaps I’m correct in this interpretation but maybe not) a familiar longing. One who sees the expanding universe in the glory of the mundane… and yet. I’m not sure what the “and yet” is. Maybe the longing. Maybe the desire to taste that awareness in every breath. To grasp and hold it tight? Or not. Regardless, I love this poem.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Chris! I definitely agree, there is a longing in this. How to put your finger on that longing? And alongside that, as you said it, a desire to taste awareness in every breath. I guess that’s how it goes, the joy and the longing side by side. But the longing spurs us in a good way. I’m really glad you enjoyed this one.


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