Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Thanks Aish!

My friend Aisha and I were chatting on AIM when she said, "give me a line break and I'll give you a poem." Well I did, and she did (it was pretty darn good too, considering it took her about 5 seconds). Then she challenged me to do the same. I'm not nearly as quick witted as she is, so I couldn't send her back a poem that instant, but I did take the challenge seriously. Here's what I had to work with: "straddling a fence Wednesday/ on". Yikes!

Well, here's the result:

A Week in Provence

Two wheels beneath me
since Saturday, I imagine myself
riding the Tour, try to empty
my mind of all but the Champs-Elysée.
But I can’t shake the feeling I’m merely sitting on
—or rather straddling—a fence. Wednesday,
on my way up Mont Ventoux, I
stopped once, not to catch my breath,
but to admire the Rhone flowing single-minded
to the Gulf of Lions. Now, pedalling
slowly through Carpantras, I admire pretty
provençale girls strolling narrow streets
and realize that Friday is almost gone;
tomorrow I fly back to a life pedestrian,
and still, I have decided nothing.

6 comments:

Aisha said...

Well, you gave ME Constant/inople as I recall, so... yikes indeed :)

This is lovely, hinting at so much underneath. Impressed!

Buddy (as I now call myself, as a converted chatter)

portuguesa nova said...

You guys are good....

paula said...

This is good, Ranger. And how long did it take? Whatever, the challege gave good fruit.
Where is Shisa's? I haven't seen hers.

Peter Garner said...

portuguesa, thanks. Good clean fun, eh? :D

Paula, thanks, for Aish's, check the oasis.

Carol said...

Peter,

This is a terrific picture of indecision--it could be pleasant idling along or spinning one's wheels but the nagging duty is everpresent.

H. W. Alexy said...

In my quest for the perfect lenses, I've mostly been on camera sites recently. This is good, that sense of getting away from it all to make a decision, when just getting away seems enough. Perhaps that then becomes the decision, who knows.

Enjoyed, Ranger, just proves that the best poems come from the strangest places.

hw