An empty bus 400
Traveling a ghosting life
Not a virtual story
But it feels like one.
The April sun coaxes people
From their cave-like existence
Into the open
To start-up a worthwhile life
Again.
Ice cream shops hand your
Numbered order from one
Main access door.
You wash your hands and
Keep your distance to any
Person
Shake no hands.
The artist is lucky
He may commute daily
To his present task
Copying a self-portrait
In Van Gogh-style
For his host and benefactor
Muse and collocutor
Who reads his poetry and
Novels –
Wide-awake capricorn
In this home from an
Estranged home –
Among an octogenarian
Family set-up.
The husband researches
The history of his rich past
The spouse reads about
Love and happiness
And the poet’s memoires
About his sentimental
Education
The artist/ son/ lover-in-spe
Company and talking partner
Copies of grandpa’s selfportrait
Accompanied by his innermost
Coincidental music.
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’20.