layers
I’m lucky to have been able to learn (completely unexpectedly), to ride a motorcycle during the last chapter of my life.
It’s something I never imagined I might do. Nor did I particularly want to do it – at least not initially. But then, somehow, I found myself riding on the backroads of eastern Ontario and southwestern and southeastern Quebec.
I lived in the United Arab Emirates for eighteen years and have travelled widely around the world. I have trekked up some of the highest mountains in southeast Asia and scuba dived in the Red Sea.
But in the process of learning to ride a motorcycle over the last year, I discovered whole new-to-me parts of Canada (my homeland), that I had never seen before. They are at least equal in beauty, if not more beautiful than many of the places I’ve visited in other parts of Canada as well as in my more distant lands
I am so grateful for all of it.
layers
by susan
© 2022
Listen here:
Read here:
layers
things are in layers
often several miles deep
sometimes they get messy
when you lay down to sleep
the fences and boundaries
that kept stuff in place
fall apart in the dark
and float off into space
the straight road you were on
is now twisty and turn-y
(ride it too fast and
end up on a gurney!)
tall fields of corn
once growing and green
become crinkly and golden
like old people you’ve seen
the bluest of skies
shift to gun-metal grey
trees lose their leaves
and your heart is betrayed
but when you open your eyes
to the bright morning sun
all the layers misplaced
become dreams you have spun
© 2022 Susan Macaulay. I invite you to share my poetry and posts widely, but please do not reprint, reblog or copy and paste them in their entirety without my permission. Thank you.
