Notes About The Poem
Poetic Form: Rhyme
Inspired: 2024 February 10
Image: Austen's Dress Portrait by Tumblr
An American In Austen
A sofening touched a light aglow,
as a remote trail took a slight bend,
Saw nature pray o'er a sheet of snow,
twas but a gust of wind, to and fro,
I thought 'twas a hoot if I pretend.
Further down the bend had turned a bit,
now at the bottom of the foothills,
the park's bench, I saw the whole of it,
the stars were fantastic I admit,
to the whole, it was gifts of the wills.
The half-slept town lay barely ahead,
the late farmers market was open,
fresh was sold out, not much on the spread,
since they're closing, all half-priced instead,
I knew of it, I heard it spoken.
So where, with my bag of groceries,
as I walk along the boulevards,
stalks of leafy vegetables and cheese
while shops close, a late-night snack will please,
nice dress, pricey, best give my regards.
At last, my penthouse view of Paris,
a message from Mom who's in Boston,
Mom ... M]why there ... you lived here ... M]I don't miss,
You met Dad here ... M]well, he's on the list
Will I be them ... M]the next Jane Austen?
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