Whenever I May Find Her

A vision you were:
garbed in tolerance,
shod in birkenstocks,
carrying a doppio espresso
through busiest Cambridge
as if it were a slingshot
to topple any Philistine.


At your approach,
my heart grew weak
and my reason puddled
like a frail snowball
in hundred-degree sun.


My soul knelt to the bricks
of Holyoke Center
as the ghost of John Harvard
scratched his noggin
in ivied bewilderment.


And then you vanished
into the moil and welter
of a weekday afternoon
in late August, the time
when undergraduates
from all parts of the world

settle into their dormitories
for yet another semester.



Thomas DeFreitas


Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 92 times
Written on 2017-08-18 at 12:42

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
A vignette in both senses of the word.