Son of Ghent

(Poem by Wendy Howe )

Housewives and their daughters adore him
when he walks the waterfront
often wearing a white shirt
and aqua jeans.

The river catches his reflection
turning its quaint pulse of old houses
and fishing boats to the restless gait
of a young man who wants to leave

but also stay in the town
where he first discovered love
and became an actor.

The decision haunts him
in both a soft and hard way
changing direction as his feet
step from the green sway of grass
to cobblestones,

as his mind balances the idea
on a sea gull's wings
gliding near the lit window
of his girlfriend's loft, her figure

centered on its linen shade
forming a label
to highlight the distilled air
of lime blossoms and twilight.

She's the essence of everything local
and finds pleasure in buying tulips
or sea bass from the market, arranging pewter
on oak shelves and watching blue meld

into lovers, shepherd and peasant girl
matched beautifully
on delftware tiles by candlelight.

That seems enough. Yet, he questions why
and envies her way of scaling life
in small steps like those gabled roofs
leading up to or away from the sky.
© 2011, Wendy Howe. E-mail.

To know more  about this poem,   about Wendy Howe

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