Rua de Artilheiros 18A
from the street entrance
a steep stairway greets
five floors to climb
why no lift?
dim yellow light
coming on, timing off
every ten steps
where is the switch?
my feet know
where to go
sweat on my face
knows where to roll
mosquitoes, a familiar greeting
like loud screams
behind locked doors
of other flat I pass
incenses burnt
in the stairway, the flicker
like little beacons, heating
more than lighting my way
one more step
one door more
key in my damp palm
a pink sofa, a flat tv
fridge ,white light
aircon blasting
my home for now
my home for now
Very fine, Chrys. (Reminds me of walking up the five darkened flights to my little apartment on the 6th...where I suddenly remember that I forgot to buy some coffee for the next morning.)
ReplyDeletelike dream poetry, Chrys - nice work in describing both internal and external spaces
ReplyDeleteThank you, Rob and Efi
ReplyDelete