Get Your Premium Membership

Hitchhiker From Another World Part 2

Poet's Notes
(Show)

Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Howard Kerr.


Or the fate that awaits one at journey’s end. Like all distances I suppose. My destination if you can call it that is another world altogether." A lady who could structure her sentences with the adroitness of a cryptic crossword clue setter. Tapping me on the shoulder at the most obscure angle she extended her hand again to be shaken. Her fingers and thumb spatially arranged with the tutored stillness of a TM Guru. Was that repetition a neurotic oddity or a symptom of a deeper malaise? As I was driving I nodded to the said hand gesture. We both brushed this bizarre incident off as it had no instant moment. At least at this point we could. It seemed as if I was talking to someone quite out of the ordinary. The spot on asides and the strict avoidance of that verbal litter referred to as small talk suggested as much. Pauses. A very human way of filling gaps in discourse did surface periodically. The silence was then punctuated by a sudden remark. "All those conifers. Look at how they reach out to the sky.” This was just the start of one of Lelia’s poetic observations. “They seem so close yet isolated. There is something almost within their grasp. Almost.” Lelia nonplussed. “See the adjoining fields. The green is but a cover. They are as neighbours in a high rise flat. One could say they are both connected and disconnected at the same time. As for those dips in the valleys? Well, they could signify some sort of rise and fall." Lelia resting her case momentarily. “A resurrection. After the fall. Oh the Lazarus within us all." Joshua deadpanned. “I'm a bit of a writer and maths researcher.” I proffered. "Recluses some say. Oh, I didn't mean you Necessarily.” Ouch, said my shattered Id at that darting jibe with its wild but targeted precision. Lelia, archer of the scar inflicting verbal. Bow and arrow baroness of stinging broadsides. This offshoot to our conversation was infused with a wry allusion. Insight on a whim. Fleeting. Not explicit. We both laughed at the incongruity of a conversation that had become very elliptical in form. Even at this early phase. Tangents cropped up as impetus to the other person's willingness to reveal themselves. Lelia didn't exactly volunteer her vocation but left clues. Deviant clues one might expect from a criminal trying to give the police a false trail. Harsh maybe. “You didn't say what you did? Student ...essayist ...author." Me sounding Lelia out. No response. “Oh no children….dashing right across the road in front of us. Squealing with delight. Whoops of innocent joy? They are sticking out their tongues now! Where did they spring from?” Hair-raising moment I hadn't anticipated. Posted : June 8th 2022

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things