RED BAND

It’s morning in Room 12

Where the poet is now

Lodging for nine days

Writing his journal of

Day to day happenings

To his feelings

Dropped into the room

Of his Muse.

She’ll accommodate him

Who knows what the

Peaceful retreat still has

In store for him.

But what will happen

When Fate decides

It’s time for a changin’?

The poet will carry on

Writing

And hopes for an ongoing

Friendship with his Muse.

For now the scenes he

Describes stand clear

Against the crystal-blue

Viennese air

With a red band of longing

Wafting joyfully ahead.

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’20.

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