"A Poem Of Observational Nature"
Poem
As my feet and sandals clopped along the cracked concrete path
Approaching the wooden gazebo,
I couldn't help but notice,
The cloudless azure skey,
The chill in the air
The yellow burning sun
The slight breeze
The lack of fall color in the trees- oh, how I miss fall in Nebraska sometimes
The sounds of fellow classmates approaching pen in hand and scratching their paper-lined notebooks
The metal lid scraping across the trash bin
The slight hum in traffic along 9th Avenue
The faint smell of cigarette smoke, leftover from a stranger after a chit-chat about war
The voice of a curious student where the testing center was
The paintings on Building 8, painted so long ago
The sounds of construction workers and the language they speak
The feel of a pencil in hand
The feel of sun rays hitting my skin
The taste of the last sip of Diet Dr. Pepper on my breath and tongue,
All these senses, were felt and heard, and some not seen
Especially when you depend on feeling and hearing to navigate the world
This content is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and is not meant to substitute for formal and individualized advice from a qualified professional.
© 2025 Margaret Llewellyn
