words: POSTCARDS FROM THE ROAD

Wrote this one early on and forgot to post it.

 

flagrant

underneath

travel

lavender

 

POSTCARDS FROM THE ROAD

How travel assaults the senses!

Black pudding and grilled tomato

with a poached egg stealthily pocketed

for who in full jetlag could eat

such things so early, or at all?

And who would offend 

the dear old hosts of the Irish B & B?

 

Pushed underneath the lumpy bunk

in the smoky German hostel,

what might once have been

a chicken wing.

And who could forget

that rainful cycling trip through France,

the flagrant scent of lavender?

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