....an impression
At once more singular and disquieting
Than that felt
By a stranger visiting Haarlem for the first time.
He has already left the railway
Before he seems to have entered into a sleeping
Town. The Kruisstraat opens
Before him, a long and absolutely deserted
Perspective...

Leonarado
Hesitates,
Stands motionlessly, reluctantly,
Nervously,
One would say, if one concerned oneself, were
To more
Accurately surmise his mood,
If observing his small body

~ Brace ~

Himself
Against a sudden breeze.
His
Hair, white,
Riffles,
Touched,
Felt
By the wind, sparks a chill tracing,
Racing rapidly trhough his spine. A whine, one
Would overhear, if standing close. But none
Stands near. He stiffens his muscles, folds
His tail closer to his body, unsure, his resolve,
Unclear, unknowing
If venturing deeper into
This sleeping
Town
Will lead him closer to his goal.
He knows
Not,
Before a sudden impulse
Prompts him to turn,
Glancie briefly over his left shoulder, sealing,
Enclosing, exposing the image behind him,
The last place from
Which he has come. Satisfied,
For now,
His memory,
His picture,
The train station, fixed his mind,
For fear, his knowing,
He may,
Circle back,
If the road ahead ~ The long,
Absolutely
Deserted perspective
~ Leads him back
Again
And again
To the train station behind him.
Satisfied,
Or as much as he allows
Himself
To feel,
Such submission, on his journey, has
He learned. Leon resolves
The memory
Behind him, his view of the railway, and turns
Now regarding the future, staring
Ahead.
Leon steels his detemination, fixes his eyes
On the long perspective
Before him, inhales deeply,
Sighs sleepily,
Steps forward...


_______
Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
A
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